


Silver Forked Skies and Cold Lightning

by RowanHeart



Category: Banana Bus Squad, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Death, Domestic Fluff, Emotions, Fluff, Gangs, Guns, Heartbreak, Love, M/M, Rating: M, Silly Boys, Slow Burn, Some fuck boi included, Training, Violence, aka assassins, and then there's Scotty, clients, evolution of Tyler, hired help, kiss scences, what morals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2019-06-10 21:42:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 63,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15300639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowanHeart/pseuds/RowanHeart
Summary: Mini's got a past, but he prefers to forget. It's been two years since he stumbled across a dilapidated house in the middle of the woods, and much has changed in his life since. He's settled into his new lifestyle of guns, combat, friends, and a stoic teacher. His best friend's a crazy maniac. But nothing ever stays the same for long. And Mini's about to watch everything change.





	1. Chapter One

Perhaps it was the heavy rays pouring down from the sun, or perhaps it was the fact that he was about to lose the game that made him sweat so profusely that particular day. The gun in Mini's hands was shaking slightly as rivulets of sweat rolled down the side of his face. The black thick jacket he had chosen this morning which he had thought would prevent the pallet of bruises that would inevitably appear within minutes of being hammered with rubber bullets, was now a major regret. The heat was worse than he had expected, the humidity almost at a hundred percent today. Flashes of hot streaks ran down his body, followed by a cold burning sensation. In other words, he was completely miserable.

A rubber bullet pinged off the tree he was crouched behind, bouncing into the dirt, spraying up dead leaves and clumps of earth. He sprung out and held the gun to his cheek, aiming from instinct. Within half a second of leaping out from his cover two bursts of pain exploded from his spleen and left cheek. He managed to fire off a couple shots, but there was a low chance of actually hitting anything. He rolled back behind an old rusty sheet of steel containing holes with jagged edges that could easily rip through skin and leave ugly cuts in their wake if he wasn't careful.

Silence. He cocked his head, listening for any give or tell, but the forest was quiet. He let out a breath, the dull waves of pain still present where he'd been hit. Tomorrow he would sport a new canvas of black and green.

Then, a nearly silent rustle coming from his left. He turned his gun to face the slight noise, unable to see where the origin. These woods held many tiny gullies and thickets that could hide a person with ease. A short burst of wind brought a familiar scent from the nearest thicket, the lingering smell of cologne.

He aimed and fired off three shots hoping one would hit the target. He was rewarded with a string of curses and a short laugh that came from behind him. He whirled around but was at the receiving end of a gun. The gun’s owner whipped the butt of the gun at his head, but it missed by a centimeter, his instincts carrying him back- and straight into the blunted knife now held at his throat from behind.

“Give up, you've lost,” The man hissed next to his ear, pressing the dull edge into his neck.

He gave a defeated sigh and the knife relaxed, moving away. That gave him the time to headbutt the man and stomp on his foot, turning as he did and smacking his own gun into the taller man’s solar plexus, and back into the hooded man’s face, an audible crack from the impact easily heard in their close proximity.

“Oh shit dude, I didn't mean…” he stopped focusing on his other opponent, watching at the hooded man grasped his nose as blood started to stream down his from under his masked face.

The lost focus cost him the game as he felt the warm metal press against the back of his head.

“And you're dead.” The taller man muttered, a smirk playing through his voice.

He ignored the comment and went to inspect the hooded man’s nose. Vanoss’ mask was fractured around the bruising impact he had made, crimson blood streaming through the cracks and downward. “Here let me get it back into place. I've done it before.” To a old friend after the dude had fallen out of a tree. He'd also gotten a broken arm and when he'd tried to set that, he'd only made it worse.

“Like hell you will. I'll wait until Moo or Del is around. I heard what happened last time you set someone's broken bone.”

He gave him a sheepish grin, and turned to look back at Nogla who apparently hadn't yet heard that particular story.

“Get your asses back to the camp you dumb shits. And Mini, you dumb fuck, next time don't lose focus just because someone got hurt.” Wildcat’s voice crackled through the com set.

Mini rolled his eyes at Nogla’s body cam and headed back up the ridge to base camp. Vanoss and Nogla followed, speaking quietly among themselves. The gentle buzz of the com in his ear faded away as the camp came into view.

It was made to look abandoned. The ‘house’ stood two stories tall, the roof caving in with moldy shingles clinging to rotten wood underneath. A shed with one door bent outward stood twenty feet from the house, the metal rusted and paint chipped in many places. Vines crawled up the side of the shed, large leaves obscuring much of one side. The grass was wilted, leaving mostly dirt, a more efficient way of leaving no trails behind. Any paths that would appear were narrow and could be mistaken for a simple deer trail.

Unknown to any passerby hiker, every wall was reinforced with steel and each window was bulletproof glass. The shed had a basement that was only accessible through a well hidden door. The house was riddled with hidden rooms too, each needing a different passcode to enter. Perhaps it was a bit much, but in their line of business it was good to be cautious. Hence why no one knew each other's real names or faces.

The codes were the first thing Mini had been forced to memorize after coming here, but by no means was it the last. Hours of rigorous and arduous training of coding and weaponry were pounded into his head day after day, week after week. Two years later he was nearly as good as Vanoss and Del, but nearly didn't beat them.

He shook his head and went into the house, the screen door creaked as he entered. They never fixed it; the sound was an easy and unmissable alert to anyone entering the decrepit building.

The wooden floor however never made a sound, the foundation leaving no air pockets between the concrete and planks. He silently slipped into one of the hidden rooms, a narrow corridor that sloped downward at a steep angle that opened up into a small room, perhaps ten feet by ten. His room.

He threw off the heavy jacket onto the bed and changed into a clean outfit after a short shower, a simple black tee and blue exercise shorts. He didn't bother strapping the holster around his waist, he preferred carting around his precious throwing knives in his hands where there was no time wasted drawing them from the sheath.

He glanced at the clock; Wildcat would be expecting him soon. He left the room and trudged up the incline, his cramped legs complaining the whole way. Field week was the most fun, but it always came at the cost of sore muscles for days afterwards.

After punching in the code, he strode into the control center. Computer monitors covered the desk, with another wall dedicated to the blue screens. Calibre sat in his official office chair, drumming his fingers like the movies would, slow spin included. Wildcat pretended not to notice, his dark eyes trained on him from under the sneering pig mask he wore.

With all the time he’d spent here, never had he heard a smile in Wildcat’s voice, nor a laugh from under that mask. It was disconcerting and demeaning wrapped in stolidity.

“This is the third time you've gotten distracted Mini,” Wildcat’s gruff voice greeted him with a hard edge. Having also spent two years with him also game Mini the knowledge to discern his mood based on body language and slight differences in his tone. Wildcat was frustrated and deeply annoyed.

“And you'll reward me with another night on my own in solitary in the cage.” The cage was what they called the interrogation room, a tiny space with sheer steel walls and no decor. Even the door blended seamlessly into the walls.

“Maybe one of these nights you might finally learn your lesson.”

“What’s that? To not care about my team?” Mini spat out, irritation embedded deep in his voice. His grip unconsciously tightened on the two knives he carried with him.

Wildcat sent him a glare, but was beaten by Calibre to a response. “Mini what Wildcat is attempting to teach you is that to help a wounded teammate, you first have to defeat the enemy. You can't do both at the same time.”

Mini muttered a few things he thought about Wildcat’s teaching before being dismissed with a sharp gesture at the door.

As he exited Vanoss passed by, a new owl mask in place. His nose must have been fixed though, as he gave no indication he was in much pain.

“Wildcat give you a hard time?”

Mini shrugged, heading out to the porch. “When doesn't he give me a hard time?”

Vanoss let out a chuckle. “You speak wisely young padawan.”

“Just because I'm the youngest doesn't mean shit.”

“Then why don't you prove it out in the field,” he taunted, a smirk clear in his voice.

“You suck.” Come on Mini, what kind of comeback is that.

“Don't I know it.” Vanoss freaking giggled.

Mini punched Vanoss in the shoulder lightly. “I don't need to know what you and Del get up to on your own time.”

Vanoss’s neck reddened. “I don't know what you're talking about there, Mini.”

Mini gave him an unseen cheeky grin. “I'm not mini where it counts though.”

“Tmi man, tmi.”

He laughed and settled down on the porch steps. “Don't start what you don't want to hear.”

They both fell silent as Terroriser and Delirious emerged from the woods, both covered in mud and soaking wet. Terror’s hair was mussed, spiked up in random directions.

“Did you two fall into the lake again?” Vanoss called out, clearly trying to hold back a laugh.

Terror tensed up, but didn't reply. Del did that for him. “It was this idiot’s fault. He made me spend all my bullets before crawling out on an overhanging branch over the water. I couldn't just let him win.”

“And did you?”

“No.” Del was scowling, Mini just knew it.

“Fuck you guys, I'm going to change,” Terror snarled, but his voice lacked heat. He marched up the steps and inside before anyone could reply.

“Well I'm going to leave you two to do whatever the hell you do. Gotta get out of here anyways. Unlike you shits, I've got a job to do back in the normal world.”

“See you later bitch.”

“Jerk.” With a roll of his eyes, Mini left them.

*******

Craig pulled up to the marketplace and parked his truck behind the huge store. He was running a few minutes late, not that it mattered much. He was usually timely so one moment wouldn't change his job. He headed inside, leaving his mask in the truck. It wasn't like he did much here besides watching over the teenagers stock items and prepare food. They were mostly good kids, if a little talkative. A little chat never hurt no one though so he never said anything to them. In return, they didn't bother him much.

Craig liked to be alone. The peace and quiet he found here was comforting. Rolling carts and footsteps faded into the background. He liked watching people too, and not in the creepy way. He studied how they moved, how they spoke to others, how they held themselves. He would by guess what they did for a job, who they were, and even give them names.

Take for instance the tall blonde lady looking over the vegetables. Her professional garb and straight back meant she probably was a lawyer. She walked like one too, with purpose and intention, every move calculated. She perused over the food until she found what she wanted and then left in determined strides.

“Mr. Thompson?”

He turned around to one of the newer workers, a girl the age of sixteen. She was a shy one, her personality juxtaposed against her brightly dyed hair. She had rarely spoken but was a good worker, efficient and charming. “Yes?”

“I was wondering if we had any Hershey cookie bars left. The man in the green and black plaid said they weren't on the shelf.” She pointed at a tall skinny fellow with a dark brown trimmed beard and black glasses.

“I'll check the back.” He left her waiting, and went to check their stock. It was a rather specific order of Hershey's. Couldn't he just get something else? Craig strolled to the candy storage section, but found none of what the customer had wanted.

He returned to the front and walked over the man. There was something familiar about him, the way he stood and held himself. Craig shook himself, it was probably nothing. “I'm sorry sir, but we do not have the particular item you're looking for in back. We have a selection of other Hershey products if you wouldn't mind choosing one instead.”

Craig watched the man the entire time he spoke. He saw a flash of recognition in his dark eyes, but the man said nothing, only hummed and walked away. How odd. The nonchalant way he walked was so familiar; who was this dude? He let the strange encounter out of his mind and went back to focusing on the rest of his shift.

Ten hours later, he finished closing up the back and headed out back. The night was clear and a few stars shone through the light polluted skies. He climbed into his truck and leaned back against the back of the seat. A long shift after a morning of running around the woods had not done his body any favors.

The bruising on his cheek was a dark blue, and prominent against his pale skin. Thankfully it was small, only the width of his thumb. His chest on the other hand was a casual display of his ineptitude at finding good cover. He groaned and stuck the key in the ignition.

The low rumble of the truck broke through the silence. After a few seconds the radio turned on, playing a rap station. He smiled and spoke along with what words he knew as he made his way back to the dusty turnout he now called his home. The forest was intimidating to most at night, the shadows and eerie noises warning off any hikers from traveling through the night. The only other vehicles parked there were his team’s.

It was a five minute jog back to the house, one he regularly enjoyed. Despite the late hour, everyone was gathered outside for the Friday night campfire. Although small, it was something fun too look forward to each week. Before he entered the clearing he pulled his dog mask over his face. He ran into the house past the guys to change from his work uniform. He'd taken off the name tag and left it in the pile back of the store.

After a quick change into sweats and a random red tee, he left the house and made his way to the fire. He was surprised to see Wildcat at the bonfire, though he sat apart from the others. He often claimed that they should have a least one person on watch at all times.

“Hey Mini! Glad you could make it!” Terroriser waved him over, patting the open space next to him.

“Why wouldn't I?” He asked as he sat down.

“You've been working later than usual. Didn't know what time your were going to get back. It's almost midnight as it is.”

“Well I'm here now. We got marshmallows to roast?” Mini leaned back against the old log.

“Hell yeah. Nogla and I ate most of them already though in a contest to see who could eat the most in five minutes.” Terroriser’s voice was giving away his shit eating grin.

“And who won?” Mini raised an invisible eyebrow.

“Nogla,” Terror muttered.

A stick was passed to him from Vanoss, along with the white heavens they called marshmallows. He stuck one at the end and poked it into the fire. Delirious grabbed one of his own and thrust it directly into the flickering flames.

“Why the hell would you do that Delirious? You're ruining the marshmallow!” Calibre shouted, trying to wrestle the stick away from Del.

“Burnt is the best though!” Terror exclaimed.

“No no no, you gotta roast it golden to perfection," Vanoss chimed in, laughing as Del smacked Calibre on the head with the stick.

Mini shook his head at his friends antics, but couldn't help but join in. “Are you kidding? Burnt is far superior to that mush.”

He was clouted on the head from behind by a rough hand. He spun around to see Wildcat retreating back across the fire. He could have sworn he heard the man chuckling, but that wasn't possible. Wildcat was the most stoic person he'd ever had the displeasure of knowing.

“Did you just hear that?” He whispered to Terror.

“What are you talking about?” Terror whispered back, facing him.

“I swore Wildcat just laughed.” Terror burst out in a fit of giggles. Mini glared at him from behind the mask. “I'm not joking as weird as it is to say.”

Terroriser quieted. “Really?”

Mini nodded.

“But no one’s heard him laugh. Ever. I don't think I've ever heard him smile either. The dude’s like steel.”

“I know.” Mini shook his head. “I must have imagined it.”

“Yeah. Must have.” Terror repeated and turned back to the wild debate over golden or burnt marshmallows.

Mini shifted his focus to Wildcat, who was barely lit by the orange flames. His mask flickered back and forth out of the shadows. He didn't join in on any conversation, choosing to watch the mad debate turned wrestling match play out. The man was a pure mystery. Nobody knew anything about him besides that he was intelligent, gruff, and a hard teacher. Mini wondered what he would be like if he actually joined in on their fun every now and then.

His attention was drawn back to the fight as Del pinned Vanoss down, only to be shoved down by Nogla, whose body was shaking with laughter. Vanoss took advantage and flipped Del so that he was now on top. They had obviously abandoned any formal training, reverting back to the boyish moves an untrained kid would use. Vanoss cackled and started tickling Del into a fit of insanity. Del could barely breath by the end of it when Vanoss proclaimed golden roasted marshmallows were king.

The rest of the night was spent cheering on Calibre to eat a bug, Nogla to drench Wildcat with a bucket of water, and Wildcat’s shouts and muttered complaints after being drenched by said idiot.

Mini stayed out even after people started filtering back into the house until it was just him left. The stars and moon kept him company. He clambered up to the roof of the house, having done it a thousand times already. No matter how decrepit the place looked, it wasn't going to shatter apart anytime soon.

Crickets filled the silence and the occasional rustle of nightlife rang out as the darkness crept closer towards dawn. He wasn't going to sleep tonight. The exhaustion in his bones wasn't enough to calm his almost daily night terrors. He would wake sweating and throat sore from screaming if he bothered to sleep. Rare was it for him to sleep more than an hour at a time. The sleeping pills he'd been taken had run out a couple of days ago and he had to wait another week before they came in. Apparently he wasn't the only one in this forsaken town with sleeping problems. The fact that he hadn't slept in two and a half days meant nothing to him. He'd gone far longer without sleep before.

A creaking noise came from the over the edge and Mini had only enough time to scramble to his feet before a large form heaved itself over the lip of the roof.

What the hell was Wildcat doing up here?


	2. Chapter Two

Wildcat pulled himself upright, his balance clearly unsettled and his footing unsure. His voice though was unfailingly rough. “What the hell you doing up here?”

“I was stargazing and I nearly fell asleep until you lumbered up here.” He lied, his tone accusatory.

“You haven't slept in two days Mini.” Shit, how'd he know?  
“You're being ridiculous. I'm not inhuman.” He claimed, his own words sounding fake to his ears.

“We have a camera in your room.” What?

“Invasion of privacy much?” Mini snapped, turning away from Wildcat.

Wildcat obviously wanted to follow him as he walked to the other side of the peaked roof, but Mini noticed something off about him.

Uncertainty was pooling off Wildcat in waves, his legs shaking ever so slightly, and his arms crossed in a defensive manner. Wildcat never acted this way, what was up?

He got an idea and paused at the top of the roof. “I'll tell you why I haven't slept in two days if you tell me why you're afraid.”

Wildcat let out a colorful stream of curses. “I don't know what your shit head is talking about.”

Mini gave him a pointed look. “Your arms are crossed, first sign of defense. Second, you're shaking. Third, you haven't come over to intimidate me. You always use your height against other people, but you haven't moved. You're so painfully obvious. So spill.”

He waited, the silence becoming heavier and heavier, weighed down by the tension. Wildcat finally spoke after nearly five minutes of internal debate and cursing.

“I have Acrophobia.”

“A fear of heights.” Mini translated, a smile growing across his face.

“Why the fuck aren't you sleeping now?”

“It's almost like you care.”

“I don't give a damn, but Calibre demanded I find out why.” He was lying, Mini knew his tell- a shift in his stance and a brush against his nose.

“Darling, you give so many damns they're visible from space.”

“Don't you ever call me darling again.” He growled.

Mini chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Sure, whatever makes you happy.”

“Just tell me why you haven't been sleeping,” Wildcat demanded, his tone dangerously low.

“Another therapy session with the doc,” he muttered. Wildcat’s eye bore into his, waiting. “I ran out of sleeping pills. That's all. There I told you why, now leave me be.”

“Mini…” he warned.

“Go to hell. Make sure you bring back cookies while you're at it. Maybe then you'll get to know why I take the damn pills.”

For once Wildcat was shocked into silence. Mini took the chance and stormed past him, heading back down the way he came. As he brushed past, Wildcat shot out a hand, grabbing onto his upper arm in an incredibly tight grip.

“Let me go Wildcat.”

He didn't answer or let go. After another ten seconds of silence, it dawned on him. “You can't get down on your own, can you?”

Wildcat gave the tiniest of ‘no’s’.

Mini wasn't in the mood to help a trembling basket case like Wildcat down. He pointed to where the roof caved in. “Just jump from there, the floor will hold just fine.”

With that, Mini twisted away and jumped--landing square on the large limb of a tree a meter away from the roof with practiced ease. He swung down the tree in seconds and headed inside, leaving Wildcat frozen with fear, alone.

He might have to pay for that one, but it was worth it to get back at Wildcat for all the pain he'd had Mini endure. The twat deserved every second.

Guilt manifested itself in his gut after thirty minutes passed and no thud of feet hitting the floorboards above him. Should he go up and make sure Wildcat was okay? No, he never did after his training left me with two broken ribs and a fractured forearm, his mind said.

He spent the next few minutes arguing with himself. He resolved it with a simple proposition; if Wildcat wasn't back in another half hour, he'd go up and check on him. The ratty couch he was laid out on squeaked as he shifted his weight. The time passed slowly.

After counting the amount of cracks on the ceiling, Mini figured the right amount of minutes had gone by so he swung his legs to the ground and heaved his tired body up. He climbed up the broken stairwell, the noise atrocious to his ear after the silence.

The hole in the roof was free of any body part, so Mini jumped, grasping the edge of the tiles and pulled himself up. The first thing he saw was a brilliant flash across the sky, a streak of white that lasted less than half a second. Then his eyes spotted Wildcat, huddled at the peak of the roof, one foot on each side to brace himself upright. He had his long arms around his knees. His face was buried in his chest and he was visibly shaking.

Mini figured it was best not to speak. Wildcat didn't glance up, staying frozen where he was. He padded over to Wildcat, unsure how to proceed.

He put a hand on Wildcat’s shoulder in an effort to get him to look up. A brief idea passed over his mind- one that might work. Wildcat couldn't be scared of what he couldn't see, right?

Mini shrugged his shirt off, pulling it over his head. The noise brought Wildcat’s head up, surprise flashing in his eyes as he saw Mini half naked. With an invisible grin, Mini started to wrap his shirt around Wildcat’s eyes. Surprisingly enough, Wildcat let him without an explanation. It made him wonder if he'd done it before...

“I'll lead you to the hole and then you can jump. You can get into a crouched position and move from there.” Wildcat did as he was told, albeit slowly and unsteadily. “Just follow my voice and move with my hand, there you go.” Mini felt like a parent guiding his kid on how to ride a bike. This is so weird, he thought to himself. “We're at the edge of the hole now.” Wildcat suddenly gripped his arm with a ferocious amount of strength. Mini could feel his arm losing blood so he coaxed Wildcat as fast as he could. “I'll jump first okay? That way when you jump I can make sure you don't hit your head or some shit like that.”

Wildcat didn't release his arm. Mini sighed and tugged it away gently. “You need to let go for me to jump,” he reminded Wildcat.

The second Wildcat opened his hand, Mini jumped the ten foot plunge downward. He landed with knees bent, rolling to break his fall. “Okay, your turn,” he called up.

Wildcat’s form didn't budge. “Come on, you can do this dude, it's not that far. You've made me jump much farther than this.”

“You're not the one with the fear of heights,” Wildcat snapped, his voice shaking.

Mini wasn't impressed. “If you don't jump in the next ten seconds I will personally tell the whole crew about your little fear.”

It that didn't motivate him Mini didn't know what would.

“You wouldn't dare.”

“Eight, seven, six...” Mini counted aloud, watching him.

“Mini, I swear…”

“Four..three..two,” he continued without missing a beat.

With a lunge Wildcat sprung forward into the gap, a sharp yelp coming out as he collided with the wooden floor, but Mini was there to prevent him from falling forward into what would unquestionably break an arm or a wrist. His bones simply wouldn't hold that much weight with the momentum he had.

An armful of Wildcat was definitely not on his list of things he'd expected to happen to him ever. Wildcat had grasped his shoulders the moment he'd appeared by his side, clinging on the only way a man who had just been scared to death would.

Mini wanted to take back his shirt, but he couldn't move as Wildcat had a death grip on his shoulders. He felt an odd warmth in his stomach he couldn’t identify.

A creak from behind them alerted Mini to a person headed up the stairs. His stomach dropped at the thought of someone finding them like this. Mini attempted to scramble back, but Wildcat gave no sign to having heard the sound and consequently, didn't release Mini.

“What the actual- you know what? When I climbed up these stairs at four in the bloody morning to figure out what the fuck just jumped into this house, I did not expect to find Mini Ladd and Wildcat hugging it out, with Mini bare chested and Wildcat blinded,” Terroriser said as calmly as a man who'd just witnessed the impossible could.

Wildcat immediately let go of him, grabbing the shirt around his eyes, tossing it to him. Mini caught the shirt, and shrugged it on.

Wildcat was still shaken, but his shivers had stopped and he had gained control back over his actions. Not that he had anything to say about this, his frenzied mind would have no chance getting them out of this.

“Hey Terror.”

“You were just- I don't even fucking know- and all you can say is ‘hey terror’!” he exclaimed, a hand coming up to cover his face in exasperation.

“How about you forget about it for now and I'll get Wildcat here to let you prank Del for a week without consequences.” Mini gave Wildcat the look.

“What are you two now, best buddies?”

“Terroriser.”

He mulled it over for another long moment. “Fine.”

Mini let out a relieved sigh.

“Now get the fuck out of here.” Wildcat growled.

Terror shot him a pitying look and went the other way.

They waited until all was quiet once more to move.

“You should thank me for saving your sorry ass.”

“You're lucky I don't punch you right now.” Wildcat grumbled.

Mini let a grin fall back on his face. “Oh yeah, who was the scaredy cat up on the roof?”

“If you ever call me that again I will not restrain myself from beating you.”

“Then I won't restrain myself from telling Terror all about what we were doing. Might have to blackout a few details though he'll love the juicy story of how I seduced the Wildcat.”

“He won't believe you.”

“Oh yeah? He doesn't know what he saw and I'll give excruciating detail on how sculpted your abs are, and how hairy you are.”

“Fuck you, you little dumb ass bitch.”

“This dumb ass bitch has a great booty if anyone asks.” Mini gave a cheeky laugh and sauntered away, leaving Wildcat to his thoughts.

His room was deliciously empty of anyone to annoy him anymore. Now he only had a couple more hours till sunrise.

A couple more hours to figure out what the hell he was going to do about Wildcat and the feeling.

*****

Dawn was always his favorite time of day. The early morning hours leading up to the exquisite sunrise were long, but there was nothing like watching flowers open up and the forest come alive. This particular sunrise had a thousand different hues imbedded in the clouds that covered the eastern sky in a random assortment. How far away they were dictated what shade of orange or pink they would be, the closest reaching a deepening red, almost crimson.

Despite the night of twisted thoughts he had yet to unravel and understand, all of that cleared with the burst of energy he received from the fresh air and the shell of darkness melting away.

Mini was once again atop the roof and enjoying himself immensely. How could he not? Though flashes of the previous night still popped up, he buried them beneath the golden rays flowing from the ascending sun.

His lonely joy didn't last as he heard the shuffling of people beneath him start about their day. Calibre would be at his computer, reviewing footage from each of the fights they set up in the woods. It enabled him to point out what each member could have done instead. He then would have them go out and practice it over and over until he was satisfied they were competent.

Delirious would be waking up with Vanoss in a couple minutes. Though they both had their own rooms, they slept together. When asked about it, Del just replied that Vanoss was good for the nightmares. No one could argue with that, so no one questioned it anymore.

In half an hour he was expected in full gear to train with Nogla and Vanoss, and Wildcat watching over as he was their teacher. Mini wasn't sure how Wildcat was going to act, but he had a good idea that it was going to be even more stoic and demeaning than before. It would be like Wildcat to react that way, his anger a tool that he often used against his trainees.

Mini descended from the roof, making the jump to the tree with all the balance of a cat. His descent was swift, the trail easy. It was his favorite activity- the run through the trees without touching the ground. From a young age he'd been learning how to judge whether a branch will break, how much weight it can hold, and how far the jumps would be. By now it was instinct to analyze the towering trunks, the ability coming in handy when it was allowed in the field games.

He weaved his way past Moo and Terror who were taking inventory of medical supplies. They kept the bandages and aid scattered about the house in an attempt to have it hidden well, though it was a hindrance when having to organize everything and count it up.

He had almost made it to his room without anyone bumping into him, demanding answers when he turned the corner into his room. There, sitting casually on his bed, was Del, his hockey mask loosely tied to his face.

“Why the fuck are you in my room?”

Del merely tossed him a bottle that rattled as it flew through the air. Mini caught it with one hand, unsure what was going on. “They're sleeping pills you idiot.” Del clarified.

“Oh.” He set the bottle down on his dresser and grabbed a towel and new set of clothes.

“Not going to ask why I'm giving them to you?” Del’s voice betrayed his curiosity.

“I can figure that out on my own Del.” He already had. It wasn't hard to think that Wildcat had mentioned his sleeping problem, knowing full well that Del would have something to remedy it.

“I was told to make sure you get to sleep. Your training will be pushed aside till later.” Del called out as he stepped into the tiny shower, the cold water another means to keeping him awake.

“The fucker,” Mini muttered before replying in a louder voice, “I can sleep just fine on my own, I don't need someone babying me.”

He showered quickly and rubbed himself dry in a matter of five minutes. He emerged with thick camouflage pants and a black tee, his hair dripping.

Del was still on his bed, playing with one of Mini’s throwing knives. In one swift motion Del threw the knife past Mini’s right ear, the knife imbedding itself in the paneled wall.

Mini didn't bothered to flinch.

“I'm not leaving until you are passed the fuck out on this bed.” Del patted the bed. Mini could imagine he was wiggling his eyebrows to complete the picture.

“Tough luck. I don't sleep with people in the room.”

Del shrugged. “Then I will watch you through the camera.”

Mini threw his hands up, annoyed at his friend’s persistence. “You just have to make this difficult.”

Del didn't reply, but Mini had the feeling his was grinning under that pallid mask.

“Whatever, I'll take those damn pills if you leave me alone. Now get the hell out of my room.” There was no chance he was taking the pills, he'd fake it just to get Del out of here.

Del rose to his feet, swagger back on. “I'll leave once you take the pill. I'm also deactivating your passcode until you've gotten at least eight hours sleep. No way out for you.”

Mini wanted to throw something. Preferably a knife into Del’s skull.

With great difficulty he grabbed the bottle and shook a single pill out, tossing it into his mouth. He wormed the pill under his tongue, the bad taste nearly eliciting gagging. Mini had been taking shitty pills for years though, and this one was no different.

“Show me.” So Mini opened his mouth, the lack of a pill hopefully indicating he'd swallowed it. Luck however was not on his side. “Lift your tongue.”

Mini cursed him in his head, but took the moment to close his mouth and dry swallow the the damn thing before showing Del that yes, he had indeed taken the blasted pill.

Satisfied, Del left him there, but not before he laid down. Mini glared at the room from his bed and decided that he would find the camera once he inevitably woke up two or three hours later and destroy it. He doubted the pills would be strong enough to keep him under for more than that, his own sleeping pills he'd ordered would sometimes only knock him out for seven hours and they were the strongest kind he knew was legally out there.

Mini lay there with his eye open until the heaviness of his body and the utter exhaustion overcame his struggle to stay awake, and he faded away into the world of nightmares and night terrors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Three will be up next Sunday. Hope ya'll enjoyed it. Remember, I take constructive criticism if you have any to give. Pardon any grammar mistakes, I've learned a lot in a year since, but I don't catch everything while I skim over it. 
> 
>  
> 
> Rowan


	3. Chapter Three

Five hours passed and like clockwork just as the clock switched to read noon, his drugged body began to thrash about, his mind stuck in whatever horrors held him under this time. Cold sweats and a sore throat would greet him when he woke, the soundproofing of his walls encapsulating the screams his mouth endlessly let reign.

At twelve forty two Mini was torn from his slumber by the pain of a dry, swollen throat. He felt no better than before he had fallen asleep; if anything he felt far worse. His body was wracked with his demons he’d been tortured by.

He reminded himself that he'd had far worse before, and forced his aching body out of bed and back into the shower. His clothes were drenched in sweat and even some blood splatter. His throat was torn up from his screams then.

His movements were minimal, but self assured. It would be obvious to those watching on the camera he hated that this was a his ritual after spending the nights deep in his oceans of night terrors.  
The shower was a relief, washing away his dreams that he had trained himself to forget. The freezing water wiped away the oily sweat and brushed off his past.

When he exited, the clock read one twenty eight. Another hour and a half until Del reactivated his passcode. Time to find that damned camera.

After searching his room for half an hour, he found the stupid thing wedged behind a picture frame, the faces drawn over with black sharpie. He yanked it out of its hiding place and threw it against the wall, the hellish piece of equipment shattering into a hundred different pieces.

Mini didn't bother to clean it up. He had another hour left and he spent that whole hour exercising to focus his mind. He wore himself out until he couldn't lift his body one more time. No sweat headed down his face, his body having given up on cooling him down the natural way.

A beeping sound echoed from up the hallway and Mini dragged himself into an upright position next to his bed. He leaned against the wood frame and stared up at the ceiling.

Footsteps stopped at the doorway to his room. He didn't look to see who is was. He didn't care that his mask wasn't even on. His mind was struggling to see straight, much less form a coherent thought.  
“You look like shit,” Wildcat’s gruff voice broke the silence.

“What did you expect after that little stunt? That I'd be fine and dandy, ready to face the day?” Mini spat out, irrational welling up. He mentally berated himself for speaking. Every breath he took was another streak of pain in his throat. Words were no different.

Wildcat was silent and Mini welcomed it. He turned away, throwing on an army jacket and boots. He slid his mask over his face and inclined his head towards the broken camera.

Mini marched past Wildcat’s still form, taking the knife out of the wall as he passed and thrust it into the sheath at his belt. He had other things to do besides deal with emotionally stunted people.

The afternoon sun was heavy but the forest was cool and shaded, just how he liked it. About now Moo, Terror, and Del would be out training somewhere by the ridge line. It was the favorite training spot for the trainers—Del and Wildcat.

He headed deep into the woods, towards the lake. He had a perfect spot up in one of the towering oaks only he could reach. The twenty minute walk there helped him organize his thoughts and push back his anger where it belonged. He slipped back into his own skin, the throwing knife in his hands reminding him of who he was.

The lake was serene, the water lapping at the shoreline near silent. Birds sung out, twittering back and forth in intricate conversation. Mini sprung up a willow tree, climbing up halfway before springing to an adjacent oak tree, catching the branch he wanted with his hands. He pulled himself up and ascended another ten feet before leaping over to the desired oak’s smaller branches. He landed near the trunk where the branch was sturdy enough to bear his weight. Then he followed the path upwards to the nesting spot as he fondly named it. It was a crook in the tree where two large section broke off from the main trunk. He was close enough to the top- nearly fifty feet off the ground, that no leaves obscured his view of the lake and stretching forest beyond.

He carved in another tally next to the thirty odd he'd already carved in. The numbers meant how many times he'd had the night terrors in the last two years. He was getting better however slowly.

He coughed brutally and found blood splattered on his sleeve. Shit.

His throat felt like it was burning, the blood tickling his throat to make him cough more, resulting in an unending cycle.

He was going to have Moo look at his throat whether he liked it or not, and there was no explanation he could come up with that would stop Moo’s questions.

An hour slipped by faster than he expected and he soon found himself winding his way back down the trees. His feet hit the ground unusually hard, his knees buckling briefly.

He couldn't wait for the six days to pass and his meds to come in. It was going to be a long six days.

*****

Moo stood over him, his mouth wide open to allow Moo to shine the flashlight down. He hummed while he worked, a quick cheery tune that was completely juxtaposed to Mini’s mood. After ten minutes of this Moo declared him mute for the next twenty four hours and gave him a bottle of liquid medicine that was supposed to stop the ragged wounds in his throats from getting infected.  
To Mini’s delight, Moo never asked what had caused it. He thanked the man before leaving him to patch up Terror who came in with a bleeding cut over his left eye.  
*****

Three days elapsed without another attempt by Del or Wildcat to force him to sleep. The nights were rejuvenating on their own, the quiet a moment to unburden himself of the day's troubles. He still came up to the roof. On the second night he thought he'd seen Wildcat below, but it was only a shadow.

Wildcat acted like nothing had happened those three days, his attitude obsolete as per usual. Several times Mini thought he'd caught the man staring at him from behind that grotesque mask, but he could never be sure. It was more of a gut feeling and the sensation of being watched than actually catching him doing it.

The fourth day was different. It began normally enough, a beautiful sunrise after a night of crickets and cicadas and then the morning training. Vanoss and Nogla had managed to sneak up on him, but he'd rendered Vanoss useless with a blow to the solar plexus and a quick kick to his spleen. The poor guy was on the ground with the air knocked out of his lungs and pain spiraling out from his left side. He'd taken two bullets to his shoulder already for a simple mistake.

Nogla on the other hand, had disappeared into the underbrush. Mini kept his gun trained on anything that moved. A rubber bullet struck the tree next to his face, spraying bark in all directions. With a sharp turn he followed the bullets trajectory and shot at the clump of bushes and small plants. He heard a low whine emitted and unsheathed one of his throwing knives. He dropped low to the earth and crawled to get a better angle. He only had to scare Nogla out of there and that meant clipping him. If he wasn't careful enough he might actually stab his friend.

When he found the perfect spot, he crouched and threw the dagger where he imagined Nogla lay in wait.

“That was way too close Mini,” Wildcat warned through the coms, the noise crackling in his ear.

That was kind of the point.

Mini was rewarded with a near silent curse and a sharp movement for his actions. He shot Nogla in the chest four times while stalking forward and ended up with a full grown man groaning as he yelled ‘I surrender’ repeatedly.

Mini let himself grin. Two long years and he'd finally beaten these two idiots in the field. He was beyond ecstatic and he didn't care what Wildcat said, he was going to be proud of this moment.

He lent out a hand which Nogla took and heaved him upward. He got a thumbs up from Nogla and a tackle from Vanoss once he found out.

“Jeez dude, I didn't think you'd be this happy that I beat your ass.”

Vanoss laughed and punched him in the shoulder. “Can't I be proud of you before Mr. grumps rains on your parade?”

“Mr. grumps is going to personally wake you up at four in the morning with a cold bucket of water if you call him that again,” Wildcat broke in, annoyed.

They both laughed and Vanoss helped him up before they headed back. Nogla slung an arm over Vanoss and his’ back as they walked back.

This, this is what I came for, why I stayed.

Vanoss motioned for them to take off the com sets. Mini did so with a confused look that no one could see.

“So we've received word of two new people Calibre was thinking of letting join.”

Mini was taken aback. New people? He wasn't going to be the newbie anymore? “Who are they?” He couldn't help but ask.

“After two years I would have thought you understood our rules Mini.” Nogla laughed with Vanoss.

He sighed and shrugged. “Whatever. When are they supposed to show?”

“Apparently in two weeks, but that's just for initiation.” Mini nodded, recalling his own initiation, cringing.

“How'd you know all this anyway?” Nogla asked.

“Del might have let it slip.” Of course, who else?

“You think we'll be ready for a mission soon?” Mini asked, changing the topic as he put the com back on.

Vanoss and Nogla did the same as the house came into view.

“Oh sure. It'll be your first. Make sure you pick the nastiest person for a first kill. That way you get used to killing and can still sleep,” Nogla advised.

I'm already practically an insomniac as it is.

“Yeah, I'll have too...” Mini said weakly, trailing off as they reached the house and split up.

Mini headed for where Wildcat would be waiting for him, the control room. Calibre was mysteriously missing when he entered the screen library. Wildcat sat where he normally would, his eyes darting over the dozens of computers.

Del was talking to Vanoss, gently touching the bruised skin on Vanoss’s shoulder in one hallway. Nogla, Terror, and Moo were crouched over a map, huddled over the table in the defense room. He didn't see Calibre on any of the other cameras.

“Where's Calibre?” He broke through the still air.

“We both decided that you've gone enough without sleeping. He went to get your meds.” Wildcat spun around, those dark green eyes staring into his.

“You don't know my prescription,” Mini argued.

“Come on, you're smarter than that.”

“Really? You hacked into the stores website and found my order?”

It was only two days more, couldn't he just let him be?

“Don't be silly. I didn't hack into it, Del did.”

“Because that makes it so much better, you dumb fuck.” Mini rolled his eyes and leaned against the closed door, the metal cold against his sticky sweat-stained shirt.

“Mini, I...” Wildcat sounded lost, his hands unable to find something to do with themselves. Wildcat gathered himself up while he waited for him to finish what he wanted to say. “Mini, I spoke with Calibre and Del. We came to a decision that all this mask wearing is stupid and pointless unless we're out on a mission.”

That was not what I expected.

“Wait so...no more hiding? This mask is more than just that, a mask. What do you think the boys would say if they could see the bags under my eyes, the sickly color my skin had taken on since that day? How can I explain it without telling them why?” he was frantic, they wouldn't understand the sleepless nights, the terrors he'd already faced.

“They deserve to know the truth Mini. They are your friends.”

The exhaustion he'd been pushing away for so long rushed over him, his legs giving out and he slid to the floor in a heap. The nightmares he'd held back came dangerously close to the surface. He cursed himself for this weakness. He needed to get out of here now before he did something stupid like open up.

He shoved the door open as he scrambled to his feet, and mustered enough energy to run back to his room. Wildcat followed him with ease, taking the corners without slowing.  
“Mini, stop.” A hand grabbed his wrist and he was spun around violently.

“Let me go.” he sounded pathetic.

“Let me help you Mini. Please.”

That shocked him into absolute silence. Wildcat never said please. He barely said anything unless it was an insult. What the fuck was going on behind that mask?

Wildcat entered his passcode to his own room, a place Mini had never been, nor ever wanted to be. But he wasn't being given much choice at the moment.

Wildcat dragged him in by his wrist and he was sad to say that he didn't resist. He was tired of running. Best to get this shit over with and done.

He was led down a matching inclined hallway to his own, and into the place Wildcat called home for the last five years of his life. There wasn't much personality here, nothing that marked it besides the three hand crafted daggers on one wall and a large picture of a white tiger hanging over his nondescript bed.

Mini was forced to look back into those sable eyes as Wildcat grabbed his chin, his fingers curling around the mask. This whole thing was stupid. He reached up and yanked off his mask, tossing it carelessly to the side.

Under his light blue eyes were cimmerian purple bags, appearing even darker against his pallid skin. There was a certain sickening illness that seemed to cling to every curve and turn. Mini knew what he looked like, the horrifying truth behind the damned mask he had worn for so long.

Mini glanced downward, ashamed of his appearance. He didn't need to see the pity on Wildcat’s face to know if he looked up it would be there. He hated pity.

“Mini look at me.” Wildcat’s voice was soft yet compelling. Mini wanted to resist again, but he couldn't.

What's wrong with me?

Wildcat had removed his pig mask and set it on the bed beside him. Mini stared, his heart starting to beat wildly and uncontrollably.

Wildcat had a trimmed light brown beard running up the sides of his defined face, meeting his hairline. He had a faint moustache over his light pink lips that didn't meet in the middle. There was something childish about the taller man that didn't fit how he acted, something Mini didn't understand.

“I thought since I saw your face earlier, I would show you mine first.” he shifted, unsure what to do with the one hand that wasn't still holding Mini’s wrist.

He swallowed, uncertainty flavoring his words. “I uh...yeah. But that wasn't what you called me down here for.”

Wildcat shifted again, shaking his head. He had no idea what he was doing. “We also decided to allow first names if the person wants to share.”

Mini stayed quiet, allowing Wildcat to figure his shit out.

“My name’s Tyler,” he said at last.

“What are you doing...Tyler?” Mini added, a weird feeling in his stomach fluttering about.

“I don't fucking know really. I guess I figured that the whole coldhearted act wasn't worth it anymore and it didn't work for what it was meant for in the first place.” he paused before adding. “For you that is. For now.”

“You're fucking kidding me,” Mini exclaimed. “You mean to say you have emotions besides anger and annoyance?”

Wild- no, Tyler, chuckled.

What. The. Fuck.

He didn't realize he'd spoken that aloud. “I just basically said some deep internal shit, it's your turn Mini.”

“Craig,” he corrected. “It's Craig.”

Tyler quirked an eyebrow. “Well Craig I suggest you start talking.”

Right, that thing that he very much didn't want to talk about. The exhaustion was still omnipresent, clawing at him to fall asleep, daring him too.

“The nightmares started when I was a young kid,” he began, not noticing the light strokes of Tyler's thumb on the back on his hand. “It didn't matter if I took a sleeping pill then, I rarely didn't dream of blood and deathly carnage. It scarred me in ways I'll never be able to fix. As a young stupid kid this was my regular thing, my norm. When I went to school and made my first friends I found out pretty quick it wasn't normal at all. My so called friends bullied me for being weak. My nightmares turned into night terrors later in my life after more real shitty events that maybe one day you'll hear about, but I don't believe I signed up to this therapy session Doc.”

Mini’s attempt at a joke at the end to cover his rapid breathing and fast paced thought trail hadn't gone unnoticed. An arm pulled him back against a warm and inviting chest that felt way too good.  
“You're safe now, that's what matters. You're strong too, you'll make it past this shit.” Tyler let out a dark laugh. “Look at me now, I really am a therapist.”

“Maybe you should tell Calibre hurry up and bring back those pills so I can rest. I don't know how much longer I can stay awake.” Mini wasn't lying, he didn't want to fall asleep, but his body wasn't giving him a choice. Tyler's chest was far too comfortable and he was too damn tired to stop the droop of his eyelids.

His head lolled back against Tyler's shoulder and the room faded into darkness.


	4. Chapter Four

“Look at him. I told you it would work.” Calibre pointed at the screen. Wildcat held Mini against his chest, one arm wrapped around the sleeping man, the other hand was stroking through Mini’s short hair, intertwined. It was a side to Wildcat Del had rarely seen before, and never like this.

“I have to say, I didn't think Wildcat had it in him,” he said, watching the two intently.

“I wasn't sure, but only he could have done this. He's always had a soft spot for the kid.”

“If you call beating the boy black and blue a soft spot, sure, yeah.” Del raised an eyebrow.

Calibre hummed, stroking his chin. “Good for the nightmares, eh?”

Delirious’s face flushed in response. “Yeah. You'd be surprised how much a single person can help.”

Calibre murmured something inaudible and turned away from the images. “Set this in Mini’s bed stand, he'll be happy to know he's got a back up.” A white bottle was thrown at him, which Del easily caught.

“Yes sir.” he gave a cheeky grin and left.


	5. Chapter 5

Mini wasn't sure if he was dreaming or not when he woke up without any new aches or sweat stained clothes and no sore throat. He could still be in a nightmare and he wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

He waited for something to happen, but nothing did. Gradually Mini backed aware of the slow breath ruffling his hair and the warmth wrapped around his body, a comfort he hadn't felt since the stirring of utter contentedness in Tyler’s arms.

It was strange after all this time, feeling safe. He wasn't sure he deserved it. Everything he'd done to protect his family, to protect himself had lead him to become whatever this was. Some people would call him a thief, others a mad man. In the end none of it mattered, only what he did to redeem his history.

Mini shook his head; it wasn't time to get sentimental, he had better things to be doing. He extracted himself from Tyler's embrace, his face pink when he realized that if there had been a camera in his room, then there was one in here and he was bound to have been seen...whatever he was doing. Mini wasn't sure what his and Tyler's relationship would be considered as. They had never been friends, nor were they ever less than acquaintances. It was somewhere in the middle of friendship, but they had been more intimate in ways Mini personally had never been with any past girlfriends.

I'll figure it out later, he told himself, despite the fact that he knew he would push it away for as long as he could. Feelings weren't a strong spot for him. He glanced back at Tyler’s passed out form. He was slumped over in an awkward position, his head bent forward against his chest. He would wake with a kink in his neck. How long had it been since the man had slept so deeply? The night had barely begun, the clock reading a little past eight. This man was still a vortex of mysteries he had barely begun to unravel.

Mini silently made his way back up incline and opened the door. There was no one in the hallway which he was glad for. He wasn't up for conversation at the moment. He slipped up onto the roof several minutes later. He spotted Nogla, Terroriser, Vanoss and Del daring each other to do stupid things excluding it would seem any intimate acts. That was odd of them, they usually had someone getting a lap dance of stripping early on in their sessions Mini had partaken in.

Tonight he was content sitting on the roof watching them. He marveled at how they responded so easily to one another without hesitating, their words light and actions lighter still. Several times Vanoss nearly tripped a both times he was caught by Del or Nogla. They were so in tuned with each other.

He never bothered to think about that before, how much of a team they all were, but seeing this made him realize they could be miles apart and still understand each other based of of tone and words used via com sets.

It didn't strike him that this was the tenth time he'd been on this roof in the last week until he felt another presence behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see a half-masked Moo pulling himself up from the edge of the hole.

Once Moo settled beside Mini, he spoke. “You sure do enjoy your rooftop adventures.”

Mini cracked a smile. “Yeah. It's rather peaceful up here and it's a good spot to think.”

“I see you got the memo about the masks,” Moo commented on his uncovered face.

“Yeah though those bimbos down there obviously haven't.” He jerked his head in their direction.

Moo chuckled. “They have, but they made a pact that they would wait until you showed up. They'll be jealous of that I got to see you first. I assume by the new vigor you seem to have acquired you finally got some peaceful sleep?”

“I...yeah.” He muttered, unsure how to proceed.

“You can't hide anything from me, I'm your resident doctor. I know the signs of an insomniac and you my friend fit the bill perfectly.” Moo gave him a soft smile.

“It seems like everyone knows now. You, Del, Calibre, Wildcat...” he shook his head, sighing.

“Wildcat?” Moo sounded surprised.

“Long story. Anyways, you aren't the first to see my face.”

“Wildcat?” Moo guessed, a sly grin spreading across his face.

Mini nodded. “Is that weird? He's the first to know about my insomnia, to see my face, and to know my name.”

Moo studied him. “No it's not. There's always been something different about you two, though us boys just pegged it as him being harder on you. It makes an odd sort of sense that he would be the first to know.”

Mini found himself at a loss. The boys always thought there had been something strange? No one had ever said anything to him about it.

“Oh, looks like Vanoss is about to pummel Terroriser.”

“Wait, what?” Mini turned to look back down at the assembled group of idiots.

“I think Nogla dared Terror to give Del a lap dance and well, you can figure it out from there.” Was that a hint of jealousy he heard in Moo’s voice?

They watched as Vanoss smacked Terror, who was laughing hysterically. The blow sent Terror stumbling back a few steps and planted his ass on the ground.

“So you want to join them before someone actually gets hurt?” Mini asked, his lips upturned. There was the normal bullshit dares he was used to partaking in.

“Good idea. Then I can be there when it does happen,” Moo agreed.

Mini took his regular route down, but Moo shook his head and muttered something about a tree frog before jumping down the hole and headed down through the house.

Before Mini joined him Moo tossed him a random mask. Mini slid it over his face, the comfort of anonymity once again with him. He hoped his face didn't disappoint his friend’s expectations.  
They jogged over to the back of the shed where the boys were hanging out. Terror greeted Mini with a smack on the back and a grin in his voice. “There you are pretty boy. Come on we were just waiting for you and my man Moo to show up.”

Mini laughed at Terror’s bold statement. “Aren't we going to wait until Calibre and Wildcat get here to unmask?”

“Psh, who wants those old farts around. Wildcat would just grumble anyways.”

“Excuse you Del, but I would like to think of myself as young still.” Came Calibre voice from the coms.

“Shit.”

They all laughed as Del was berated by their boss. “We need to turn these damn things off,” Delirious grumbled, sounding much like Wildcat.

“I agree,” Nogla agreed.

Mini took his com out and threw it into the pile that Del started by the side of the broken shed.

“Okay now that we have that taken care of, this whole mask business must officially end. Rip ‘em off boys!” Vanoss cried out.

With no countdown whatsoever, they all simultaneously accepted Vanoss’s words and ripped the plastic mask off.

Mini’s first reaction was that he recognized Nogla. “It was you that day! I knew there was something familiar about that stranger in plaid.” He pointed at Nogla with a very accusatory finger.

Nogla laughed and quirked an eyebrow. “Ye didn't even know it was me?”

“Fuck off,” He retorted.

Mini let out a breath of relief when no one commented on his appearance. He received a thumbs up from Brock, who was chuckling.

“All jokes aside, can I say that Delirious is fucking adorable?” Terror jumped in, a shit eating grin on his face.

“I swear to hell, if you make one more move on my boyfriend then I'll murder you in your sleep.” Vanoss growled, taking a step towards Terroriser.

Terror shrugged, the grin never leaving for a second. “Not a bad way to go is it?”

“Wait, you're officially boyfriends now?” Mini exclaimed, still reeling from Vanoss’s exclamation.

Delirious laughed as Vanoss’s face reddened and he stumbled over his words.

“Yes, my ship has sailed!” Moo yelled, pumping his fist up in the air.

“You're what?” Mini gave him an incredulous look.

“Er, nothing.” Moo scratched the back of his neck.

“O-Kay then.” he turned back to the group.

He was greeted with the sight of Delirious grabbing Vanoss by the waist and pulling him in for a rather raunchy kiss. The whole gang cheered as Del dipped Vanoss extremely low, still lip locked with the man who clearly had no clue what to do with his hands.

Finally Del came up for air and let Vanoss go. Vanoss stumbled backward, mortified. Nogla clapped him on the back and he jumped, startled. Mini broke down from hysterical laughter, rolling on the earth as Terror collapsed too, also brought down by the mighty throes of diaphragm movement.

When he found himself able to breathe again, Vanoss had recovered and was grinning sheepishly. Next to Mini, Moo was staring at Terror’s face intently, watching as the man clambered back to his feet.  
A hand clamped down on Mini’s shoulder from behind, and he twisted to look back at who it was. Tyler stood there, his face made of stone once again, though it didn't match the bed head he had, nor the way he stood closer to Mini than normal. It didn't slip by Moo either as he shot Mini a tiny smirk.

The instant the rest of the boys became aware of Tyler they quieted, an uncomfortable stretch of silence arising. And then-

“That's what you call a beard?” Terroriser pointed at Tyler.

The whole group waited with baited breath for Tyler to snap. Mini tensed, sure that Tyler was going to start berating the older man.

Instead they were surprised when Tyler snorted and rolled his eyes. “Have you seen Cr- Mini’s? It's far more pathetic than this thing.”

“What? Wait a second, you little-” Mini was outraged. No one, no one should mention his attempt at a beard.

“I'm taller than you,” Tyler broke in.

Mini waved it off. “Doesn’t stop you from being a dumb fuck.”

The whole group watched their exchange with interest. Mini felt five pairs of eyes on his back, trying to understand what the hell had just happened.

“Guys.” Mini snapped his fingers twice.

Nogla shook his head, still staring with disbelief in his eyes. “What the actual hell just happened?”

“Wildcat didn't bite off Terror’s head,” Vanoss muttered.

“Say that again.”

“Wildcat didn't bite off Terror's head.” This time Delirious mumbled it.

“Well since all these bimbos are obviously preoccupied, what do you say we leave them to their idiotic confusion.” Mini grinned back at Tyler.

The prospect of the two at the center of the crew’s blank states seemed to finally snap them out of their stupor as Moo grabbed Mini’s sleeve and Tyler was tackled by Terror.

Mini burst out laughing as Tyler defended himself from Terror’s wrath. The poor kid had it coming, for his stoic appearances and his endless practices. “You motherfucker! You are such a bloody twat! How dare you lead all us on like that!”

Tyler was heaving great breathes between fits of laughter that engulfed him as Terroriser hit him fruitlessly.

Moo pulled Mini away as he went to yank Terroriser from the taller man. He shook his head at Mini. “Let him, Wildcat kind of deserves it after all these years.”

Mini pouted, but complied.

After Terroriser decided he'd razed his knuckles enough he huffed and climbed off Tyler. Vanoss and Del had found their way next to Moo and him and were now biting back grins.  
Tyler climbed to his feet, running a hand through his hair. “Well now that you're done with pummeling me, I would like to let you all know that that Calibre wants us to meet,” he checked his watch, “about five minutes ago in the meeting room.”

“Better not displease the boss.” Mini said, going to grab his com.

Despite the facetious atmosphere, they all responded with ordinance. Tyler led them as everyone fell into some semblance of a line. Mini thought they were a bit too much blob-like to call it anything else.  
They filed into the conference room and found their seats in order of their rank, though the term was used loosely and barely at all. Calibre sat up front, his monkey visage removed, his face revealed to have a healthy black beard and bushy eyebrows.

Delirious and Tyler were on either side of the table, facing each other, the hacker and the weapons virtuosi. Nogla and Terroriser both found their spots after each man, their specialties giving them a higher position. Nogla was ever so fond of close combat, having trained in several martial arts and been exposed to the enemy far more times than anyone else. He understood them best. Terroriser, for all his jokes, could be terrifying when he wanted to be. An intimate knowledge of the human anatomy, as well as a guiltless conscious combined made him suited for gathering intelligence in messy one on one situations. Moo and he were after, both proficient at guns and another art. For Mini, his aptitude at height advantage, for Moo it was his medical skills. Lastly, Vanoss reared up the gang, but by no means was he the weakest. If Mini could swap places with the man, he would. Vanoss was a brilliant sniper and great at moving undetected.

“You've all heard the news, you know your choice. I can see most of you immediately chose to reveal yourselves. We explained why we did so, but you were not given a whole truth in the matter.” Tyler hadn't given an explanation why, and Mini hadn't been in the shape to question him. He cocked his head, interested in what they'd said before and had to say now.  
“We told you that it would be easier to work as a cohesive whole, a unit if we broke the barriers we had built. Of course that reasoning is not wrong for a majority of cases. As I'm sure some of you can recognize, you already work together astonishingly well. You can coordinate and rely on each other, almost instinctively backing one another. This is a vast improvement from several other crews I've seen in my day. I didn't need to tell you this, but I wanted you to know I'm proud with how far you've all come.

“Now, the real, more compelling reason to your unveiling, lies within the fact that we have bigger mission coming up. You need to be able to know one another by a single glance, and what if one of you loses a mask, then what? We've trained you to recognize threats, not each other. Soon we'll have missions that will be taking us out of state, possibly country. We need you to know each other like no other person in your past lives. In response to this we will be having a training exercise tomorrow to test everyone's abilities and intellect. The teachers have not been notified of this until five seconds ago.” Calibre gave them a dry smile and continued.

“They will have to work with you to beat your opponents. You must be wondering who your enemy is, if you are all working together. I've organized for an old friend of mine’s crew to compete with ours. You don't get to know how many, or how skilled they are. At four o'clock tomorrow morning you will be let free into the forest. Your goal is to subdue them, not kill. We will be using paintball guns to show any lethal hits. No broken bones, but concussions and bruises will be inevitable. You will receive your weapons and armor at midnight. From there you can plan how you will proceed.” Calibre went on for another few minutes, explaining that an hour before they would be given a location.

He sat down as soon as he finished, and Delirious stood up, clearing his throat. Mini could see the gears in his brain turning, already figuring out how he would approach the next day. “We also will have two new members joining us in two weeks time. One is an ex military man, the other a man who is very good at his job.”

“And what is his job?” Moo asked.

Del gave them a crooked smile. “He is, or rather was at this point, a hired killer.”

“So an assassin in everything but name,” Tyler remarked, crossing his arms.

Delirious nodded, shrugging.

“And how can we trust the ex military man? He could be some sort of spy.” Nogla wondered aloud.

“He's an old friend. If you trust me, you can trust him.” Del answered, a faint smile coming to his face.

Del sat back down, his part done. Calibre stood back up in a relaxed stance. “To make it easier for everyone, if you choose to share your name, you may now. I'll start. My name’s Lui, but I'm still boss to you.”

“David.” Nogla said simply.

“Jonathan.” Delirious grinned.

“I'll refrain for the moment.” Wildcat muttered, shooting Mini a look.

He was surprised. Why didn't Tyler want to share his name?

“What a surprise. Anyways, Mine is Brian.” Terror proclaimed.

“I'm Brock.”

“Craig.”

“And least but definitely the most important,” Mini snorted at Vanoss’s antics. “Evan.”

“Now that that's over, you have four hours till midnight, I advise you get some sleep before the clock strikes. Weapons will be available in this room when it's time.” Calibre announced, before leaving the room swiftly, his footsteps echoing.

The room was silent until Brian rose. “You heard the boss, get some shut eye.”

Mini was doubted he would sleep anymore today. He glanced towards Tyler, who was looking everywhere but at him. Mini frowned, but shook his head. A few deep talks didn't change anything it would seem. He shouldn't expect much to change, after all Tyler was as stubborn as a mother bear and just as intimidating. The thought of Tyler being a mother bear brought a smile to his face.

“Mini, you coming?” Evan was standing by the door, staring back at him with an aberrant look on his face.

“Err, yeah.” He stood and followed Evan out of the room, not looking back once.


	6. Chapter 6

Mini spent his four hours playing several games of solitaire after Tyler came in his room to see if Mini was going to want to rest. Too embarrassed to admit that Tyler was his personal pill in a sense, he'd declined and after a few minutes of soft arguing, and Tyler had yielded and left him alone, probably going off to sleep on his own. 

Mini was the first to enter the conference room five minutes after the next day began. He was greeted by the sight of two paintball rifles, one better suited as a sniper. Evan would be pleased about that. An array of throwing knives sat in a pile, their edges blunted with a hard plastic and lined with what looked like red ink, still wet to the touch. They wouldn't cut but they would definitely leave a harsh mark behind. Mini grinned as he sheathed three and left a mental reminder to grab his throwing belt; it had more slots to put the rest of the knives. He considered leaving a few to Delirious, and left two off to the side. Other than the rifles and knives were a variety of pistols, even a machete, its edge also blunted by the black plastic. Kevlar jackets lined the chairs, but there were only four. A camouflage jacket would make him nearly invisible in the predawn hours. 

A wider grin crept onto Mini’s face. This was his time, his hunting ground. He and Evan would be brilliant from the trees as the others hunted from the ground. They would win this, Mini knew it. They would be ready come dawn. 

“Stop looking at those weapons the way my old girlfriend used to look at shoes,” Tyler demanded, wrinkling his nose at the thought as he strolled into the room. 

Mini tried to stop the chuckle that escaped. He really did. “Please tell me all about this girlfriend. I must know who I'm being compared too.”

“Jealous?” Tyler wagged his eyebrows, making Mini laugh more full heartedly. 

“In your dreams, scaredy cat.” 

Tyler sent him a fake glare. “What did I say about calling me that?”

Mini strokes his invisible beard as if thinking. “If I recall correctly, you said the next time you wouldn't stop yourself from beating me.” 

Tyler cracked his knuckles with a smirk and took a step forward into Mini’s personal space. “Yes, that was it.”

Mini could see all the valleys and planes of Tyler’s face, every hair in his thin beard and the flecks of darker blue in the skies of his eyes. His breath hitched involuntarily at how close the older male was. He felt his blood rise, coloring his cheeks a dark red, but he couldn't move, he was frozen in place by those mysterious eyes as they dissected him where he stood. He gulped, every muscle in his body screaming at him to get the hell out of here. 

“Craig’s been acting different, surely you've noticed?” David’s voice filtered down the hallway, enabling Mini to move again. 

He sprung away from Tyler, dashing for the other side of the table and pretended to organize all the gear when Nogla and Terroriser entered the room. 

They barely gave Tyler a glance. He could feel their eyes drilling into his head, but he kept his eyes downcast. He forced his heart to calm down, taking slow deep breaths. 

A few minutes of tense silence gave way as Evan and Jon came into the room, arguing over something petty. Mini allowed himself to look up, although he refused to let his eyes stray over to Tyler. Moo came in, his eyes tired and shoulders slumped. He shuffled over to Mini’s side of the room, surveying the equipment, frowning. 

“Where's the medical supplies?” 

Mini hadn't thought about that. Someone could end up with a broken bone or any other number of injuries and a med kit would go a far ways to help. “Perhaps they forgot,” he suggested. 

“No, everything was planned down to the boots you're wearing. They did it on purpose,” Brock muttered, his exhaustion unable to stop his mind from figuring out how to deal with the problem. 

“So we'll hope for the best and if worse comes to worst then we'll improvise,” Mini said, not believing his own words. 

“Yeah, sure,” Brock mumbled. 

“Anyways, why are you so tired? Didn't you get any sleep?” Mini raised and eyebrow. 

“You're one to talk.”

_ "Brock.” _

“Fine. I stayed up the previous two nights reading up on a few new medical practices. I'm running on three and a half hours of sleep from the past 72 hours. Pardon me if I'm a bit tired.”

“Coffee?” Mini asked, wanting a reason to get out of here before Tyler made him spontaneously combust via staring.

“You're a god Mini. Or Craig. Whatever. Yes please.” Brock shook his head in an attempt to wake up.

Armed with a valid reason to leave, Mini scurried out to the makeshift kitchen. He set about making Brock’s favoured mocha, grabbing milk from the fridge and the special cup to make the mocha with. He rested against the counter as the drink heated up, the milk frothing. 

His finger tapped a random song against the granite top. He failed to notice Brian slip into the room, his feet nearly silent. 

Mini let out a high pitched shriek as cold hands wrapped around his throat. He recognized Brian’s laughter as the man fell on the floor in hysterics, his body shaking. 

When Mini recovered from the panic, he shouted at the fallen man, cursing him. “Fuck you, you piece of shit!”

“Dude, calm down. It was just a prank,” Brian giggled, climbing to his feet. 

Mini pouted, pushing out his lower lip. “Briaaaaaan.”

“Hell no. Don't you go making cute pouty faces on me man. That shit doesn't work on me. Try it on Wildcat though, I'm sure he'll swoon.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mini looked away in an attempt to hide his cheeks flushing. 

“Aw hell, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Don't even try to deny it.” Brian smirked, leaning against the wall. 

“All the same I'm going to thwart your inept attempt at whatever the hell that was.” Mini fought the blush, staring Brian in the eyes. 

“Dude, seriously. Don't. It's too obvious, the way you look at each other, the way you act. I swear he was going to smash you up against the wall when we were all in that circle and he came up behind you. It was plain as day to the rest of us that he wanted to ruin you.” 

A new voice jumped into the conversation from behind Brian. “Craig’s not the one I would worry about getting attacked. You on the other hand, might have to watch your back if you continue this conversation.”

Mini wanted to die as Tyler came around the corner, appearing from the hallway. Brian mouthed  _ good luck _ at him before dashing out of the room, leaving him alone with Tyler. Instead of facing him, Mini went to fix up Brock’s coffee. He stirred in the frothed milk with a spoon and took a little sip, burning his tongue. 

Mini and Tyler stood in uncomfortable silence as he refusing to look at Tyler. The taller man wasn't going to have that, and he blocked Mini’s way as he tried to leave to give the coffee to the deprived Brock.

“Craig.” Tyler's voice was gruff. 

“Excuse me, Brock needs his coffee so I'd rather get it to him now.” Mini tried to slip past him, ducking under Tyler’s outstretched arm. 

“Brock can wait another few minutes. We need to talk.” 

Mini’s breath caught and he started sweating as Tyler grabbed the back of his shirt to stop him. His stomach was once again filled with that butterflies, his mind stuttering to keep up. 

He swallowed hard. “About what?”

Tyler dragged Mini back to the island bar, giving him no room to escape. “For one, why are you dodging me, trying to escape?”

Mini scratched the back of his neck, trying to think of a logical reason. “Um, Brock really needs his coffee and we need him awake for the match?”

Tyler shook his head, pursing his lips. “Craig, surely you can do better than that.”

He hung his head in defeat, still scrambling for an excuse. “I probably could if I wasn't focused on the match. I mean, we don't have a medkit, so if someone gets hurt we have to improvise. We don't know how good this other team is, or how they communicate. They could use sign language for all we know. We can't recon it and…” Mini rambled on, Tyler’s withering stare going unnoticed. 

Tyler held up a hand. “Stop talking Craig. If you're so adamant about your bullshit excuses then fine. We'll talk after the game.” 

Tyler stormed out, his shoulders tense and feet angry. Mini was left unsure what he had done to offend the brusque man. He frowned, sighed, and went to deliver Brock his damn coffee. 

Brock gave him a huge smile as he handed the mug over, muttering a quiet ‘thank you’. He nodded, sending a weak smile back. 

Tyler was in the room, at the other end, talking to Jon. Mini turned away, focusing on figuring out their plan. 

He hummed softly, thinking. He spoke with Evan about traveling with him in the trees, being a lookout and a sniper. He and Jon agreed to split up the knives equally, leaving Mini with four throwing knives. He grabbed a pistol and holster, strapping it around his waist. He wasn't a sharpshooter like Evan, preferring the silenced pistols and his precious daggers. 

Right on time, Calibre entered the room with a rough sketch of the surrounding wooded hills and lakes. A typical red x marked where the contesters were holed up. Calibre explained that there was an underground nook where a flag would be. He also added that after one side subdued the other, they would switch and positions. 

Mini wasn't surprised at the addition, it was only sensible to be able to both attack and defend. He squeezed through Jon, Brock and Evan, who were crowded in front of the map. 

The target location was near the lake, where Brian and Jon often practiced training. The west side of the body of water had a small bluff facing it, over the crest of that hill and past a brook winding past the lake was ground zero. 

The tree cover was dense, underbrush making it both easier and harder to get close. It would provide good cover, but any tiny movement could be tracked by the unnatural swaying of the leaves and ferns. For Mini, this was perfect. His expertise with getting from one place to another near silent would be significant, although he paused to assess how Evan would do. 

The man was quick and sure footed up high, but he made more noise. That noise would attract attention. At least with him, a sniper wouldn't have to get as close. If Evan stayed back, then Mini could still work around the resonance he would inevitably create. 

With ten minutes left on the clock, Mini found himself tapping his foot in anticipation. They all were anxious to get out to the terrain and into their element. Waiting was not not Tyler’s strong suit; the tall man was shifting around, unable to stand still. 

Everyone had donned their masks, the familiar masks a satisfaction to Mini. He liked the anonymity it gave him. Granted it also hid the circles under his eyes, which despite a good day’s rest he had received, were still present. He was glad that no one else had asked about his pallid skin and deep purple circles. It was a small relief. 

Mini was shaken from his thoughts as the timer went off, signaling the beginning of their offensive attack. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed :)


	7. Chapter 7

**_Chapter 7_ **

The shadows soon swallowed the team. Tyler, Jon, and Brian headed the long way around. They would make good time against the slower paced second half of their team. He and Evan took to the trees as soon as they could. They wore night vision goggles, the only two that had been provided. Jon had given them over willingly, saying that it wouldn't hurt anyone else if they took a wrong step, but it could be much more fatal if he or Evan fell. Mini couldn't argue with Jon’s logic, and took the goggles, tossing one to Evan across the table. 

The world to him was vastly different than Nogla below him. Nogla was still half-blind in the darkness, his eyes adjusting slowly. The forest was far more ominous and he remained on edge. Nogla could make out Evan above him, but Mini was silent, taking enormous care to be quiet. The occasional curse from Brock was heard by all three men as he ran into brambles or poison ivy. 

Thirty odd minutes later, the four arrived at their destination. The chirping of crickets was still constant background noise, masking most of the noise they accidentally made. But Mini could hear the shuffle of leaves and whisper of cloth shifting if he listened heard enough. And if he could, so could they.  

Evan was back a few hundred feet, his perch sturdy. Mini had been happy when he found it in a tree top run he'd taken a few months earlier. Evan sat in the hollow of a dying pine, the three outstretched branches giving him a platform to lay across as he looked down the sight of his sniper with the night vision still on. The darkness was lifting, turning to a hazy grey sky at a sluggish pace. Mini had taken his goggles off after doing a quick look over. 

In a few minutes Tyler, Brian, and Jon would make an appearance, starting their plan. Mini was secretly proud of his idea, but contained himself. It hadn't worked yet. 

The crickets went quiet, the forest becoming violently silent. Mini strained his ears while gazing about, looking for a reason they went silent. 

A cold wind rustled through the trees, ruffling Mini’s hair. The wind didn't stop, instead growing with strength. Mini frowned, unsure of his surroundings. 

He flattened himself against the maple tree he was residing in, keeping alert. A crunch of dirt gave way the unknown man beneath him. Mini held his breath, contemplating what he should do. He didn't have the time to warn his friends of the new predicament nor the ability to. If he spoke, no matter how low and softly, he would be heard. Evan wouldn't spot the man, he was on the wrong side of the tree and east of where his gun was pointed. 

With intense care, Mini took out one of his throwing knives. He could make out a pistol at the man’s hip and an AR in his hands. The man was crouched down, gun aimed towards where Brock lay, his body hugging the ground behind a large raspberry bush. 

Mini had two options from here. He could drop down and subdue the man with a quick throat attack and risk giving away his position or he could throw the knife and lessen the risk as the man would have to pretend to be ‘dead’, unable to communicate with his teammates. The noise of his knife clattering against man and ground would still have the possibility of revealing his position and he could miss a killing blow.

He jerked his head to a new sound--the sound he had been waiting for. Brian and Jon were speaking in hushed, but audible voices, tramping through the underbrush with attempted stealth. Mini knew Tyler was not far behind them, keeping about a hundred feet away, but without making a noise. 

Mini had to act now. 

With a swift jump, he landed heavily on the man below, feet digging into his shoulders, pressing the shocked man into the dirt below. He threw a hand over the stranger’s mouth, stopping him from making a call. With his other hand, he pulled the knife over the man’s throat in a mock killing blow, leaving behind red paint as pseudo blood. 

Mini stilled, staying crouched over the limp man, who was glaring up at him. Jon and Brian’s voices had paused and he could hear the rustle of clothing shifting as they brought their AR’s up against their shoulder. 

“It was just me. One down,” Mini muttered, keeping his voice low as he spoke into the coms. 

There was no response, but Mini knew they’d heard. Jon and Brian continued their quiet conversation, a careless distraction. Mini was stuck on the ground until he found a quick, simple route upwards. He didn't want to risk making more noise than necessary. 

His breath was steady, eyes honing in on the dancing shadows, waiting for unusual movement. Keeping his footsteps soundless, he slipped towards a great big oak, its branches high, but the trunk split up into three sections, making the ascent effortless. He clambered up, watching as Jon and Brian came into view around the corner of another oak. They were upright, an obvious target, but they were prepared, muscles tense and awaiting a reason to hoist their weapons again. 

Mini took another look around before spotting two men nearly invisible in the bushes. They were on either side of his two standing teammates, just ten feet in front. Without hesitating, he pulled out his pistol and aimed, firing off two shots in succession. One of the men dropped to the ground, the other signaled he’d been shot fatally with two fingers raised in Mini’s direction. 

Jon’s gunfire brought sounds back crashing down, the weapon reviving the crickets once more, filling the forest with a swelling music. Mini sprinted from one trees to another, gaining ground as the real fight began. Paintballs splayed against bark, spraying orange and red across the brambles and trees. 

He heard Evan’s sniper fire, and his voice, spoken at normal volume, as he called out a vital hit. 

_ Three down.  _

Mini heard Brock curse and he relayed that he’d been hit in the shoulder. Mini was happy it wasn't a fatal hit. 

The wind blew again, a large gust ruffling the treetops. It tasted of rain and cold skies. He hadn't taken into consideration the weather turning nasty. Now he was, the fat drops beginning to fall slowly. The sky rumbled again, groaning as it released a terrible downpour. 

This was troublesome. Mini was supposed to drop down from the trees directly next to the rocky overhang where the flag would be, but the branches would become slick and he wouldn't be able to land steady. 

Mini reported to the others, dropping to the ground, pistol raised. 

“Stick with Brock.” The crackle of the com slightly disfigured Tyler’s voice. Without replying, Mini slunk over to where Brock had last been. The man was still there. 

He gave a brief nod before motioning a circle in the air, indicating his wish to circle around. Brock gave him a thumbs up and stayed crouching, rolling to the next best cover. Shots rang out, peppering the wood behind him. Mini was having a harder time making out the softer noises of feet and clothing as the rain started to pour down, drenching him. 

Lightning flashed, lighting up the woods for less than a second. Mini was able to see a fast moving figure dash from one trunk to another in the haze. The rain and darkness made it nearly impossible to see beyond twenty feet, the closing thunder rumbling often. 

A loud crack made Mini jump, his body tensing as he felt an impact smack into his  lower right back. 

He rolled, twisting away, finding a crowded spot of ferns as cover. He shot three rounds back in the general direction where he thought he'd been hit from. Another loud crack renewed nature’s effort in drowning them, the visibility decreasing.

A hand struck his neck, rough callused fingertips scraping along his other arm, wrenching the pistol from his grasp. Mini grabbed the offending hand as he was hit with a knee to the small of his back. Pain laced up his spine, but he ignored it, violently jerking the wrist of the man against his forearm, his mind bent on winning. The man’s wrist snapped, the bone broken, his hand hanging limp. 

_ Shit.  _

The man let out a roar of anger and agony, retaliating with a fist that clipped Mini’s jaw, spinning him backwards. 

_ Shit. They weren’t supposed to break any bones.  _

Mini went with his momentum and sent a turn kick at the man, changing it into a hook kick as the man swayed to the side to avoid it. His heel struck the man’s ribs with a great force, although he pulled it last second.

The man responded as a groan escaped his lips, grasping onto Mini’s leg, wrapping a thick arm around it, trapping him. 

His throwing knives were useless, covered with the thick plastic they would do nothing to stop the bigger man. Thinking quickly, Mini preformed a flip kick, bringing his other leg up, pushing off the man’s chest and cracking his free foot against his chin. The man released his other leg on instinct, allowing Mini to land in a crouch, barely in time, his feet squelching in the mud. 

Breathing heavily now, his muscles were tired, his clothes wet and cold, clinging to him. The miserable situation began to kick in--literally. 

The man had appeared to lose control, for what reason Mini didn’t know. If their training was anything like his, control was one of the first and most important lessons. Mini doubted a broken wrist was enough to make the man snap. Before he could think about it more, a foot drove into Mini’s chest, driving the breath from his body. He gasped, struggling to breath for a few seconds, flailing in the soaked dirt. Another kick was delivered to his side, hitting his kidney, agony spiking through his chest. 

_ Shit.  _

Mini couldn't move, his breath stolen from his lungs. Another fierce kick was accompanied by a sharp comment, the voice giving away the man’s mania. Mini opened his mouth to call out when a foot caught him in the jaw, snapping his head back, neck whiplashed. His teeth ached, his jaw jolted with brilliant fresh waves of sharp throbbing pain.

He faintly heard the sound of a pistol firing and the splat of paintballs on clothing, but the man’s motions didn't cease. Mini heard Brock yell something, but couldn't make it out over the ringing in his ears. Blood ran down his face freely, iron coating his tongue. 

A hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling him upright, before he was thrown into a tree, his head smacked into the slick wood, stunning him, his legs unable to hold him up, his body falling into the brambles. 

_ Shit,  _ he thought through the haze of agony. 

Covered in mud, body heavy and burning, mind spinning and throbbing, Mini was left to the rain. Another sensation of being hit or kicked, he couldn’t let which at this point, radiated outward. It was accompanied by the dull yell off wayward, where Mini couldn’t tell. The ringing in his ears was increasing, overpowering everything but the rain.

The drowning rain. It spilled over his eyes, sliding over the mud, running into his mouth, washing away the blood. He felt him leave, his heavy presence vanishing--one weight off him as another settled in his lungs.

He choked on the mix of crimson and blue, throwing up. Mini retched, his stomach heaving all of its contents onto the plant next to him. The bile stung his mouth and lips, a film of his stomach acid covering his throat.  Numerous scratches covered his face and hands from the thorny brambles. Empty, desolate, and exhausted, he hauled himself to his feet. 

Dizzy, his whole body screamed at him to lie down and sleep, but he fought it. He had to calm down and assess his situation. He leaned on a tree, taking deep breaths for what felt like an hour before he was ready to move again. 

The rain started to lessen, but thunder and lightning still boomed and flashed frequently. Mini sucked in one more deep breath, letting the pain flow through his body once more before pushing off the tree. He drew one of his knives, his fingers shaking. 

Mini couldn't see anyone, the sound of rain hitting leaves and wind his only companion. His friends wouldn't be far, Evan wasn't to go in close. If only Mini could find him, he would be fine. 

He staggered across the mud, his feet often getting stuck in the thick substance. Beaten step after beaten step moved him farther from the group. Mini thought he was going in the right direction, but his head hurt and his eyes hurt and his jaw ached. 

_ Shit _ summed up his situation perfectly, he thought, a bloody smile forming. 

Five minutes. Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. 

Fuck, he couldn't tell where he was. His mind was too foggy, his senses betraying him. The rain petered to a stop, one last drop rolling down his face. Blood still sluiced from a deep cut along his cheek. Infection was likely, the mixture of bacteria and acidic rain staining his skin. 

Mini’s progress was slow, back to where he had come from. He battled to keep his eyelids open, but each second they grew in weight. He wasn't sure at what point he’d dropped his knife, he couldn't remember. 

Mist swarmed around him as the dawn began to peek out, the clouds turning from a violent despair to a light grey blanket. Mini heard a voice through the gloom, calling out. He didn't have the energy to yell back, but he turned, altering his direction to trudge to the familiar voice. 

He spotted the origin of the Irish yell. Brian stood between the trees where he'd started, Brock coming out of the brush nearby. Both no longer wore masks. 

He made a strangled noise, Brian’s eyes darted over to him. Relief washed over his face, but was instantly replaced by worry. Darkness started creeping in his vision at the edges and knowing he had been found, Mini submitted. 

His legs collapsed, his mind already gone. 

Brian rushed over, calling out that he’d found Craig to Brock. Brian grasped the younger man by the armpits, pulling him upright, while Brock grabbed his legs. They made their way back to where the others awaited anxiously. 

One man in particular couldn't help but pace, his arms crossed over his chest. 

When Brian and Brock arrived, they set him on the stoney ground, keeping his head off the mud. 

Craig looked terrible. Mud splattered most of his clothes. A dark bruise was forming on his lower left cheek, a deep cut right below his eye dripping blood. His hair was plastered to his head, his skin unnaturally pale. They couldn't see the green, red, purple, and blue of bruises forming across his chest. 

Tyler took one look and punched the nearest opposing team member straight in the nose. He didn't care if he got in trouble for it. 

Jon pulled him back, grabbing his arms and yanking him towards David. The man Tyler had hit, cursed him, but didn't retaliate, clutching his bleeding broken nose. Chilled, a medic for the other team, grabbed Sark and took care of the broken nose, snapping it back into place. 

The two teams stood warily apart, carefully not to get close before each’s leader arrived. 

They didn't have to wait long. Calibre arrived five minutes later, Ohmwrecker with him. The two had been catching up before they had been interrupted by Evan, who had run all the way back in ten minutes to explain Mini was missing and hurt badly. 

At the present both leaders had grim expressions. Calibre stared at Mini’s still form when suddenly the boy cried out, a shrill scream that grated against his ears. 

Everyone jumped at the sound except for Tyler, who was by Mini’s side in an instant, cradling the younger’s body against his chest. Mini writhed, still screaming, his mind fighting off unseen demons. 

Brock understood Craig’s insomnia as he watched the night terror break him. Brian was horrified to see his friend being torn apart. Jon watched with understanding, shivers running down his side. To stop the flashing images he leaned into Evan, who wrapped his arms around him. David stared in terrible fascination as Tyler tried to calm to screaming boy. 

Another minute passed, the screaming continued, unbroken until the poor man ran out of breath. Craig was clawing at his face, kicking at a ghostly enemy. 

Tyler didn't stop whispering in Craig’s ear, he couldn't stop. 

The other team watched passively, yet they too were aghast at the vicious display. Even Seananners, who had beaten the boy, was troubled. 

Craig let out another bloodcurdling scream, raising the hairs on Brian’s skin. It echoed off the trees, into the distance. Birds quieted, crickets stopped chirping, all bowing in awe.

And then Craig stopped. 

And the silence smothered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone who enjoys this fic, I'm looking for a beta to go over chapters before they go up. Contact me on tumblr at rowanheartjunior if you wish. No pressure of course.   
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter :)
> 
> Rowan


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about the absence, I had problems with posting that took a while to be fixed, but thankfully they have finally been! Also i know wrapping bandages is NOT what you're supposed to do, but I didn't know that when I wrote it, and I haven't bothered to fix it. Hope you enjoy!

Loud, angry voices filtered through Mini’s conscious without waking him. They fought viciously, yelling regretted words. A warm cloud wrapped around him, protecting him from the voices. A sweet, mild, familiar voice drove the horrible visions of bloodied friends and family away, keeping him safe. 

***

Mini awoke in their version of a hospital lazily, finding himself pulled tight against someone’s body. He snuggled closer, embracing the warmth radiated from the body, soft puffs of air gently ruffling his hair. Mini heard a quiet chuckle from across the room.

_ Wait a damn second.  _

Finally waking up, his cheeks and neck burned red as he realized who he was cuddling with. Tyler’s sleeping form hadn’t stirred, his breath even and languid.  _ How could such a stoic, strict man be so adorable?  _ Mini’s blushed deepened at the thought. 

He attempted to extract himself from Tyler’s arms without waking him, but as soon as Mini tried to move away, Tyler tugged him back, wrapping his arms tighter around the smaller man. He was reminded why he was here in the first place as he shifted, his deep bruises and aching jaw still very much present.

Mini dared to open his eyes to find that he had no shirt on, but his entire torso wrapped in pristine white bandages. Brock stood at the other side of the room, watching Mini wake up. 

“Hey.” Mini rasped, eyes widening.

His throat was raw and dry. He cursed internally, understanding why Tyler was here. Brock handed him a glass of ice cold water, which he drank greedily, the drink soothing his parched throat. 

“You’ve been asleep for almost,” Brock hesitated, glancing at his watch, “fifteen hours now.” 

Mini was taken aback.  _ Fifteen hours?  _ “Wait, how long’s Ty- er Wildcat been here?”

Brock shrugged, ignoring Mini’s slip up. “Give or take ten minutes, the whole time. No one wanted to tell him to move. He was being..stubborn.” 

His stomach fluttered, warmth crawling up his spine, but he shoved down. “You mean if you’d have tried, he would have snapped at you and probably end up hitting someone.” 

Brock nodded vigorously. It wasn’t a huge surprise, Tyler was painstakingly tenacious when he chose to be. 

“What happened after I passed out?” 

“Well when I told Brian and the other’s after we won, oh right we did manage to defeat the rest by the way. Anyways, after I told them, Wildcat was adamant he go out to help look, but I thought it would be better if Brian and I looked alone. I didn’t want Wildcat to freak out if we found you worse off.” Brock began, his eyes focussing on the wall behind Mini, keeping his voice low. “We backtracked to where you’d been attacked, trying to find out where’d you went. I found vomit and blood, which worried us both greatly. We spread out, looking for tracks. Even in your mindless state you were good at getting away. Fortunately for us, you did leave a few footprints. It still took us over an hour to find you.”

Mini smiled wanly. “If my memory is right, I found you.” 

Brock chuckled. “That you did.”

Silence fell between the two, a comfortable quiet. No words were needed, no thank you’s necessary. Mini hummed a tune while Brock finished writing something on a clipboard. 

As Mini opened his mouth to ask a question, Tyler nuzzled his neck, making his breath hitch involuntarily. Flustered, Mini tried once more to break Tyler’s iron grip. 

“Perhaps I should leave you two alone?” Brock suggested with a cocky smile. 

Mini glared at him, huffing. Brock winked and left Mini to his fate. 

He would get Brock back for that and he knew _ exactly how _ . 

For now- sleep. 

***

Sleep Mini did, until he was rudely awoken by a cold bucket of water to his face. Sputtering, Mini coughed, spitting out the extra water. He glared at Brian, who was cackling maniacally. 

“Time to wake up bitches!” 

It took Mini a second to realize Tyler was no longer beside him, the cold air of the room seeping into his skin as he spotted the bigger boy lunging at Brian, awash with his freakish anger. 

The two fighters devolved into childish wrestling and weak pummeling, Brian getting the brunt of the attack. Mini started to laugh, quickly stopping. His chest hurt too much to even take a deep breath. 

Mini watched Tyler and Brian bicker back and forth. He hid a smile from them, turning to stare at the ceiling. A shiver ran down his body, the cold water and air mixing. Brock would have to put new bandages on. 

“Brian wha-” Brock cut himself off as his eyes landed on Mini.

Brian offered a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck as Brock gave him a hard stare. “They needed to wake up. I was bored.” 

“I have to put brand new bandages on Craig because you couldn't just prank Del. One more act like this and I'm cutting you off from your Starbucks.” Brock said sternly, putting his hands on his hips. 

“My coffee!!! Nooooooooo!” Brian cried, clutching his heart. 

Tyler observed with amusement written over his face, a chuckle escaping occasionally. Brock stared Brian down, who sulked out of the room. 

“Now then. Wildcat it's good you're awake. You stink, go take a shower while I check Craig out and make sure nothing’s broken or fractured.” He shooed the reluctant man out of the room. 

“Craig.” 

He shifted his gaze to Brock. “What?”

Brock stared at him for a long moment before bombarding him with medical questions. Did it hurt to breath deeply? Does this hurt? On a scale of one to ten, how painful? Did you vomit up blood? He was prodded, poked, pulled this way and that. Brock removed his bandages, looking over the bruising. Overall it was a very uncomfortable experience. 

Half an hour later Tyler sauntered back into the room, his hair still damp from the shower. He had shaved Mini noticed, trimming and cleaning up messy sides. Brock started speaking as if the protective male hadn't just walked into the room.

“Well Craig, I can say you don't have any broken ribs which is good, although you might have one fractured. I'll have to do further testing for that. You have light internal bleeding. Also your jaw is only bruised and your throat slightly red from..well you know. You won't be able to do any training for at least a month, no strenuous activity for five to six weeks. Don't try shooting a higher caliber gun over a .45 ACP. I don't want the kick to hurt your shoulders or chest accidentally. And no running around in the trees until your chest heals.” Brock added another rule as an afterthought. “No rooftop excursions without help.”

Brock gave him a meaningful stare. Mini put his hands up in surrender.  “Yeah, okay. Got it Doc. Don't do anything fun for five to six weeks. Thanks.” 

“Good.” He replied, way too cheerful than Mini would have liked. “I'll go grab fresh bandages for you. I'll be back in twenty. Don't go anywhere.”

“Ughhh.” Mini let out a long groan, flopping on his back, wincing. 

“Bored already?” Tyler laughed. 

“You're here, of course I'm bored. At least Brian is entertaining.” Mini retorted. 

“My coffee! Nooo!” Tyler mocked Brian, mimicking his earlier performance with a large amount of exaggeration. 

“You're a dumbass.” Mini said flatly, unamused. 

“Like you could do any better.” Tyler teased and moved closer, sitting on the edge of Mini’s bed.

Mini became painfully aware of his shirtlessness and Tyler’s proximity. The warmth in his stomach came back, the one that made him want to giggle and..he wasn't sure what else it wanted. 

They spoke animatedly until Brock came back, Mini struggling to keep his head above whatever water Tyler seemed to make him drown in. Relief washed over him when Brock came back into the room, white bandages in hand, still packaged. 

“Wildcat, go be useful somewhere else. I need to take care of Mini and you need to go talk with Calibre. You've put it off long enough.” Brock ordered, setting the bandages down.

“What’s he talking about?” Mini frowned at Tyler 

“It's nothing.” Tyler said dismissively, waving his concern aside. 

“Out Wildcat. Now.” Tyler gave Mini a small smile before he left, which Mini returned.

“He is so fucked.” 

“What?” Mini asked, face drawn into confusion.

“Wildcat.” Brock said, as if it was a suitable explanation.

“I don't understand what you're talking about.”  Mini stated, facing the older man, raising his arms to let Brock wrap his chest. He chuckled, shaking his head at Mini, not deigning to reply. It left Mini bewildered and aching in a way he couldn't comprehend. 

***

Mini’s days were filled with card games, watching his friends tease and play around, and getting told when he have fun again. His nights were full of campfires, laughter, and Tyler. When the sun went down and everyone else had gone to bed, Tyler would always be there, to talk and keep Mini company. 

They joked around, playing various board games Tyler brought with him. Mini always looked forward to these nights. His relationship with the man was growing ever stronger, and to his pleasure, no one brought it up around him. Although, he was sure they talked about when he wasn't around. 

Mini spoke to Lui about what happened, confessed to starting Seananner’s anger by breaking his wrist. Lui ordered him, once he felt he could without straining anything, to do a deep clean of everyone’s room. It was understandable and Mini did so without complaint. Calibre had postponed the defense portion of the activity for a later date. 

Recently the team had been on edge, two days ago Calibre had called a meeting for discuss the two new members on the team. He warned them to be welcoming and not to instantly start pranking them. That notice had gone straight over Brian’s head, and he was planning a prank extravaganza. Mini wasn't sure how he felt about the new members. 

Today was the day they would arrive. Mini was curious, he often wondered what they would be like. Del hadn't said much about the military man no matter how much pestering Brian and he had done. Lui mentioned earlier that they would be arriving later in the evening, although Mini was skeptical that it wasn't on purpose. 

It was Friday, the regularly scheduled evening bonfire would be taking place. It was the crew’s most relaxed time of week, where everyone would be in the best mood. If Mini was wrong about his assumption, he’d kiss Tyler. He found himself aimlessly daydreaming about what it would feel like, how his thin pink lips would taste, how wonderful Tyler had felt curled up against him...

_ What the fuck.  _

He shook his head violently, trying to erase the thought. He fought the train of thoughts, forcing them to the back of his mind. 

The day passed like the sun sinks below the horizon- creeping up and then vanishing in an instant, left with the warm afterglow and the darkening heavens. 

Mini spent most of his time alternating between retraining his muscles and spending his allotted rooftop hours alone. A harsh pounding behind his eyes lasted for several hours, forcing him inside to rest in shadow. 

He saw little of Tyler, a brief moment of awkward greetings shared in the morning his only interaction with the man. The strange reactions his body was going through when he was near Tyler made him uncomfortable. They had been growing stronger, harder to ignore as time went on. Often Mini’s heart would race, the scent of Tyler’s cologne addicting. He found himself unnecessarily brushing up against him- a hand in passing, squeezing between two people, leaning far closer to the towering male. The small moments when Tyler would stare at Mini with an unreadable expression or the tiny uplift of the corners of his mouth would shoot vibrant tingles down his skin. 

Mini wandered out of his room, the bright light of the hallway blinding him. The house was dark, the last rays of sunlight filtering in through broken windows, scilliant beams scattered on the floor. He meandered through the empty decrepitude, drawn inexplicably to Tyler’s room. He traced the rough sable grain, careful not to receive splinters. The popcorn ceiling was strewn across the floor, crunching under his feet. The white powder coated the soles of his shoes, a pain he'd have to wash off later. 

Out the ruined kitchen window he spotted a roaring fire, silhouetted figures standing and sitting around the blazing flames. The warm colors danced along the packed dirt, casting flickering shadows. Two unfamiliar shapes stood slightly off to the side, not far but obviously not any of his family. The faint sound of raucous laughter filtered in. A pang of loneliness formed from his ever building confusion and resulting isolation. 

Mini turned his gaze back to the hidden doorway, his thoughts silent. For once he was relaxed, his blank mind gave him simple halcyon. It was ephemeral but enough to calm the storm raging in Mini’s heart. The clouds cleared, thunder fading into the distance. 

Mini smiled, full and wide at absolutely nothing and at the utter satisfaction of the serenity. 

“You look a bit creepy smiling at the entrance to my room.”

And with a howl of wind, lashing rain, and a crescendo of noise, he was torn out of the silence into his reality and beating heart. His grin faded.

“Wildca-”

Tyler interrupted, his voice sending chills down Mini’s back. “No one else is around. You're safe to use my real name.”

“Tyler, I thought you'd be out greeting the newcomers with a hard stare and devil’s horns.” 

A soft chuckle passed Mini’s ears. “You weren't there. I waited for you to show up but you never did.”

“I like the quiet.”

“And your friends.” Tyler said, tugging one of Mini’s shoulders to turn him a round.

Mini didn't have a response to that. He shrugged, unable to look the taller male in the eyes. Just being this close was firing off neurons in Mini’s brain, the fluid confusion and desire flooding his system. His heartbeat quickened, burning. Tyler was close, close enough that if Mini just tilted his head he'd be confronted with pink lips and mauve eyes. 

_ Stop it Mini.  _

He took a step back, masking his uncertainty with confidence. “Well I should go meet the newcomers then.” 

Mini sidestepped around Tyler, making towards the campfire. Tyler’s hand shot out as he passed, tight on his wrist. 

“Craig. Please.”

He instinctively glanced at Tyler’s face. Mini didn't know how long they stood like that- the moment his eyes flickered to meet Tyler’s, he was flooded with emotion. The look in his eyes was smothered, but yearned to be free. Mini didn't- couldn't understand the tsunami of fevered sensations roiling through him. 

Tyler let go.

Mini didn't want to admit to himself he missed the calloused fingers wrapped around his wrist, the warmth of human touch. He left Tyler without a word. 

Within seconds of leaving the house, Mini was bombarded with obscenity and coarse shouts. He took a deep breath, planted a smile, and let it grow as he walked over. 

“There you are Craig. Was starting to think you wouldn't show up. Did you run into Wildcat?”  Calibre asked, dripping wet. 

“No,” he lied, “I just woke up from a nap.”

Unconsciously he glanced at back at the atramentous structure, the pale moon casting silver streams across the anile roof. 

“Well our two new members arrived about half an hour ago. Cartoonz? Wrk?” Calibre motioned two each as he spoke their names.

The two males, vastly different from the other, stepped into the yellow glow. Cartoonz had a lush beard a dark auburn, was fair-skinned, and wore thick framed black glasses. He stood taller than Mini by a few inches, his dark eyes drilling into him. The ramrod back and casual stance his feet took made him out to be the military man. 

Which meant, the other, Wrk, was the contract killer. Wrk was dark skinned, an adventure time cap covering black curly hair. He was laid back, twirling a knife with dexterous ease. 

They studied each other, taking patient care to understand the other's intentions. With swift, smooth steps, Wrk appeared in front of Mini. 

“The name’s Marcel. How's your throwing?” 

“Throwing?” Mini stared at Marcel, confused. 

“You obviously know how to use one. So how good are you?” The odd man asked.

“I'd like to think I'm pretty good.” Mini said, unsure how to answer. 

“Pretty good? Don't sell yourself short Craigory,” Del spoke up, “You're better than me.”

Mini shrugged. “Bit rusty, been out of action for the last two weeks.”

Marcel hummed and flicked the dagger he was playing with at Mini. He caught it from instinct, and looked at Brock for confirmation. 

“Go ahead, just don't strain your shoulders. You've been healing quickly and I'd like to keep it that way.” Brock urged, watching with interest. 

By now everyone was staring at Mini, wanting to see what he would do. He spun, the smooth gliding motion he'd practiced many times taking over. Despite the shadows, he heard the solid thud of it embedding into the white pine beyond the light of the fire, about thirty meters away. Mini stretched, working the tension in his chest before snorting at Brian’s expression.

“That was right by my face!” Brian snapped, pouting.

“I didn't hit you though.”

“No, but-” Brian struggled to form a complaint, but gave up when nothing came to him. He closed his mouth, shaking his head. 

“Like I said I'm a bit rusty.” Mini said as explanation to Marcel. “I was aiming to nick Brian’s nose.” 

A smile creeped on his face as Brian sputtered, and the others laughed heartily. Marcel raised an eyebrow, and broke his passive face, grinning broadly at Mini. 

“I like you. Craig was it?” Marcel clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Yeah, and ditto. We'll have to trade technique sometime.” Mini’s eyes darted back to the house once more. 

He spotted Tyler staring at him, eyes glittering dangerously in the atrament. That look in Tyler’s eyes…

Mini shook himself and returned back to the campfire, forcing his mind to relax and have fun.

“So why is Calibre soaked?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof. I know it's been a while, and honestly there's not much I can say but sorry. I'll try to update more regularly. Also I have not edited this as I just want to get it out, so any mistakes are on me.

The two new men grew accustomed to the team’s ways, their oddities and unique styles of teaching. Mini found Cartoonz to be a more serious man until the alcohol was brought out. The man completely flipped and was just as loud as Brian and Del. Marcel became a friend, many afternoons spent trading ideas about the uses of the knives and putting them to practice.  
His situation with Tyler remained constant, a bug he couldn't kill. Mini still hung out with him most nights, but with two new members who needed training in teamwork and defense, Wildcat was often exhausted at the end of the day, more subdued. It made Mini more at ease. There were moments of intense emotion Mini was growing used to, but still liked to avoid.  
Before he knew it, three weeks passed and the signs of autumn began to set in- glorious colors of sunset splayed out over hundreds of acres of forests. Dead leaves littered the ground, while rain storms blew down various sized branches and twigs. The air was scented with cider and damp earth. Mini was nearly healed, the ache in his chest barely there and his jaw no longer hurt when he ate.  
On this particular Thursday, he and Nogla were sparring, equally matched. Where Nogla had speed and agility, Mini had more power behind his attacks and a sharp eye. They were at a tie: 3-3.  
Nogla went in for a round kick aimed at Mini’s ribs. He followed the movement, catching Nogla’s leg and yanking as hard as he could. He jerked the dark haired man off his feet, before sending a bruising kick at Nogla’s nose. Mini stopped just shy of breaking Nogla’s face in. Still holding Nogla’s foot, he pinned him, straining the Achilles' tendon.  
“Good job. Nogla I want you to report to Calibre in five. Mini, shower and then talk to me.” Tyler commanded from his spot near the doorway.  
Mini wiped the sweat from his eyes, body swarmed with beads of the salty liquid. He grabbed a refreshing drink from his water bottle, throwing a towel over his shoulder.  
The shower was cold and entirely reinvigorating. Hair dripping, Mini left his room, following the well worn trail to Tyler’s room.  
Tyler was resting on his bed, hands behind his head. His addicting eyes were shut, deep, even breaths escaping in rhythm.  
“Tyler?”  
He didn't stir. Mini considered waking him, but decided against it. With a soft sigh, he left, the door clicking behind him. He didn't make it far before the patter of bare feet revealed a sleepy, baggy eyed Tyler behind him.  
A drowsy grin sprung up at Mini’s startled expression. “Hey.”  
“Tyler, I was only gone for ten minutes and you fall asleep. You're slacking on the job.” Mini teased, leaning closer unconsciously as Tyler stepped towards him.  
“I've been making sure my favorite student gets enough sleep. He likes to stay up late you see.”  
Mini blushed, but laughed to cover his mind stutter. He was Tyler’s favorite? “You should tell him to sleep earlier then. I'm sure he'd listen if you asked.”  
“I'll have to. How about it?” Tyler rubbed the back of head.  
“Only once you fix that horrible case of bed head you've got.” Mini reached up on tippy toes to flatten Tyler’s wild hair.  
The fine hair was soft and silky under his fingers. Tyler closed his eyes as Mini ran his fingers through his hair.  
“There. Better.” Mini whispered, staring at Tyler.  
Neither moved.  
The moment was everything Mini wanted to explain, to say, but he couldn't formulate the words or thoughts to begin.  
Slowly Tyler opened his sky eyes, gaze embedded with a haunted desire. “Craig…”  
Mini backed away suddenly, choking on the overwhelming clarity of what he was feeling. “No, I'm sorry. I can't continue this.”  
Mini fled, a croaking voice calling out after him, but it never reached his ears. He was already gone, vanishing into the trees, where the winds sang sweetly and the wood greeted him with grace.  
***  
Mini wasn't sure how long he stayed out there, his sense of time warped at the branch he rested on. The clouds fading into the monotone sky, darkness seeping in from the east, coveting the west.  
Shadows billowed, bent and bowed. The canopy’s hollowed by wind and rain, creaked and cracked in the still air. A squirrel scampered from pine to oak, leaping short but risking great falls. A cardinal made a short appearance, a sign of the snows to come. His bursting red feathers and beady eyes staring at him before he flew away, into the rising mists. The air cooled, white twisting fogs another signal of colder months.  
Mini stayed the night, thoughtless, mindless. Crouched in the same spot with the same emptiness. Burning. Freezing. He didn't know. Sometimes there was a voice, trying to reach out, but it never stayed.  
Flashes of scenes flickered across his vision like a movie. One body, wrapped in white, broken, beaten, bloodied. A finger, just one, with the gold ring still on. Screaming, blood, anger, voracious hate. Hunger, bones cracking, hollow eyes. Biting scars, whipping wind, and shivering darkness. If only the things he saw had been a movie.  
The dawn was grey and bitter, swallowed by a veil of gloom and blanketed murkiness. Mini was trembling, his thin shirt unable to keep out the chill. His arms were hugging his knees to his chest, puffs of condensation giving away his lethargic breathing. Eyes strained, muscles cramped and frozen, he stood.  
With all the elegance of a vulture, he clambered down the oak, feet crunching as he hit the ground. A brief stretch revealed how sore he was. A silent walk to the house sheltered his broken thoughts.  
At the ridgeline, he stood watching his crew move, converse, continue. He stayed out of sight, hidden by the early morning haze and shadow. Mini saw Del glance around as if looking for something several times during his conversation with Evan. Cartoonz came out and greeted the two men before meeting up with...with Tyler.  
Even from this distance Mini could see the man looked terrible. Vibrant purple circles under his dull eyes, uncombed hair, baggy clothing thrown on carelessly, and the hard way he stood. Hiding his grief in plain sight.  
Mini tore his gaze away, choking on nameless emotions. He wasn't allowed this, he wasn't supposed to after everything. A scornful retreat now saved a sea of suffering later. That was how these things worked.  
Mini waited until his path to the ruined building was clear of peering eyes to hurry inside. The lock to his room swayed under his hand. He moved without his usual grace, unsteady legs meeting a rough floor.  
His room was warm, his bed inviting. He cranked open the drawer and grabbed the bottle of white pills. He didn't bother to gently shake out the necessary amount- he poured out four or five- and swallowed them dry. Mini slumped over, collapsing on his bed. He didn't bother to take off any clothes. He huddled into a ball, curling in on himself. Time weaved in and out of existence, and soon Mini was lost in the murky depths, in the beautiful desolation.  
***  
Ten hours. Fifteen. Twenty. It took them eight to find out where he was, another hour to realize he wasn't waking up when he should have. Brock ordered him taken to his infirmary room. Brian was the first to notice Wildcat’s inability to look at their unconscious friend. Del helped Brock carry Craig down the hallway. Marcel and Cartoonz were watching with a degree of curiosity and worry. Marcel wondered what could have possible happened to transform the sarcastic, bubbly young man to this.  
No one explained Craig’s night terrors. Wildcat was the only one aware of the events that caused it, and even he barely knew the true depth of the vacant horrors.  
Brock hooked Craig up to an oxygen machine, forced deep breathing exercises.  
Mini didn't wake up for twenty five hours. Dry throat, nausea, dizziness, stomach cramps greeted him, along with the momentary panic as he realized he was hooked up to an IV and breathing machine.  
It took him several minutes to calm his rapid breathing, a struggle to slow his racing heart. Another to open his eyes.  
Brock was asleep, slumped over a folding chair, clipboard dangling from a string attached to the counter a few feet away. Slight snores escaped his mouth, denting the silence.  
It hit Mini with a brick. No, several very large bricks. Consumed by his own past, his own troubles he never gave a single thought about how his friends would feel when they found him. How long had it taken them to find him? Guilt crowded him now, crushing him from all sides.  
Why couldn't he do something right? What made it so hard for him?  
Mini was shaken from his head as Brock’s breathing changed. Mini shut his eyes, and mimicked deep breathing, hoping to convince Brock he was still asleep.  
A grumble heralded Brock’s awakening. He shuffled around, Mini could hear him shifting and the sound of pen on paper.  
“Craig, I know you're awake.”  
How?  
“Your heart rate is up.”  
Mini opened his eyes to see Brock staring at him, gaze tainted with worry. He wanted to explain, to give an excuse about why he did what he did.  
“Craig, what happened?”  
Mini opened his mouth, but then closed it, unsure how to tell. How could he explain when Brock wouldn't understand? His past was his, no one else’s.  
“I don't know,” he answered honestly, too many choices laid out, too many risks to take.  
Brock pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes. “Whatever happened, don't let it hurt your relationship with Wildcat.”  
Mini flinched. “Don't say his name. Please.”  
Brock stayed silent, gazing endlessly at him. It made Mini want to curl up and hide from the world. So he did.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day because why not, it's been too long

Brock made him stay the rest of the day, regularly checking his vitals, before releasing him grudgingly. They didn't talk besides the medical questions. The quiet was heavy, unrelenting.

Mini left to go train. He found the bag room empty to his pleasure. He kicked and punched and hit and smashed till nothing remained. He saturated every attack with the unwanted feelings.

_Jab. Elbow. Knee. Sidestep. Kick._

The rhythm, the natural movement calmed him, took away the crushing memories and violent uncertainties. Mini stood there, panting.

“Craig.”

Mini turned slowly, Calibre leaning against the doorway.

“Sir?” Mini wasn't sure what he would be in for.

Calibre waited a moment, skimming over Mini’s appearance with a close eye. “This won't affect the team structure, agreed?”

“It won't sir.”

“Good.” Calibre paused as he was leaving, “Craig next time you have a breakdown, don't drown it in those damn pills. Just go talk to Jon.”

“Y-yes sir.”

Calibre nodded to himself and walked away, leaving Mini alone with only his head to blame.

 

He tried, he really did- to leave his problems at the door when everyone was around. He smiled and he joked with Brian and Evan, pranked Nogla a few times with Jon. It was fun, he supposed.

But it wasn't, _he_ wasn't the same. And it was affecting the team, despite how hard he tried. Every time he was near Tyler, in the same room as him, Mini changed. He refused to look at him, refused to see those damn blue eyes staring at him. The others, they were quieter, more professionals than friends when the two were anywhere near each other.

It hurt Mini.

It hurt Tyler.

Tyler was...he was like he was before they became whatever the hell they had been. The stoic faces, the stony eyes and stormy moods. He snapped at the briefest hint of humor, he grew more apathetic, careless almost during training sessions. He barely spoke at anyone, much less Mini.

And when he had too because Calibre was there? Tyler talked in a clipped, cold, and cruel voice.

Fuck it hurt.

Mini took to wearing his mask again, finding solace in its reassuring grip. He wore it for several reasons- the sleepless nights were written in purple and red across his face, the calm that passed over him as he slid it on, and the ability to hide in plain sight.

It was a couple weeks later when Calibre announced that their part two of the original training attack would take place in a few days. Cartoonz, now known as Luke, and Marcel, were happy for the action. Both never were told what happened the last time they went up against the other team.

Nogla, Del, and Evan immediately started planning. Brian and Brock stayed by Mini, while Tyler was left in the middle. No one spoke to him. He had been treating the others with as much distaste as Mini.

Luke and Marcel joined their group.

“What's going on with Wildcat?” Marcel was the first to ask, eyeing the man with a warning.

Brock glanced at Mini, asking for consent. He sighed, and nodded, playing with the hem of his shirt.

“Wildcat was like this before you came here for many years. He was cold and hard, but reliable and trustworthy. Very good at what he did. Nothing changed until two years after Craig joined us. It was sudden and no one really understood it at first, but most of us figured it out real quick after...that doesn't matter.” Brock waved his hand at the matter. Mini was thankful he didn't reveal anything more. “Anyways, Wildcat got some bad news recently and no one knows what it is because no one will tell us. Whatever happened though, hopefully will pass and everything will go back to normal.”

Brian’s eyes flashed towards Tyler and then back at Mini. Luke noticed, narrowing his eyes at Mini. Mini shrunk under his intrusive glare.

“We have a competition to win. I expect nothing will get in the way,” Luke said bluntly.

“Nothing will,” Mini responded, returning Luke’s stare.

Luke grabbed Marcel’s arm and pulled the man away, towards the planning committee. Marcel’s gaze lingered for a few seconds.

Mini leaned against the walls, groaning. “Fuck.”

***

Mini was on the roof again. His feet dangled over the edge, his body ready to pitch. The blanket of clouds obscured the stars and the rain was a perfect description of his mood. His hair was plastered to his forehead, glasses foggy in the misty air. Water drops slid down his face, but his eyes remained locked open, seeing absolutely nothing.

He was lost, frozen in the emptiness.

And he, somewhere in his mind, treasured the numbing emotion, as if it were a gift.

A crack of thunder woke him from his daze, crashing through his ears, violent and sure. Beneath his fingers, the house shook as the sound wave collided. The jarring impact shocked, jolting him. A faint echo of the crash came from inside, piquing Mini’s curiosity. He moved slow, as not to take an unplanned tumble off the slippery shingles. With a groan from the wood underfoot, Mini landed on the second floor, rolling upright.

There were no lights on, the darkness all encompassing, suffocating. He tried a switch in the kitchen, but no light flickered to life. The power was gone in flash, literally.

Mini cursed under his breath. The backup generator had to be turned on manually.  He lingered by the doorway for a few seconds, staring out into the dark air, rain lashing at the trees as the wind tore at the house.

Faintly, against the atramentous night, he could see a light that shouldn’t be there. It didn’t click, that the light was just thirty yards away and it was a flashlight beam, sweeping the area, with a person behind it. No one was awake- that he was sure of. So who was out in that maelstrom?

Perhaps it was a good thing the power had gone out.

Mini ducked behind the broken walls as the beam speared through the night, revealing the decimated house. The slick sound of footsteps on sodden ground reached his ears over the violent hammering rain. This person, whoever they were, was going to discover this place wasn’t what it seemed as soon as Calibre turned the power back on. If Mini had calculated it right, he had about thirty seconds before their leader exposed them.

Internally cursing, Mini found the only option repulsive, but necessary.

The poor hiker had no idea what hit him, for Mini could see it was a man now, as soon as his creaking steps entered the shelter. Mini’s jab was perfect- it hit him in the temple with incredible speed and strength. His arm snapped back, ready for another punch if it was needed.

It wasn’t.

The man dropped like a sack of stones, eyes wide and uncomprehending. Mini wasn’t mean- he didn't let the man hit his head on the wooden floorboards as he fell in a limp heap. With a jolt of shock, he recognized the man’s face cradled in his arms.

Those eyes, the cognac irises gleaming as the power burst back on in a rumbling flourish, were unmistakable.

Scotty had found him, as promised.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to the usual Sunday upload, as I can manage. Hope you enjoy :)

Mini watched the sleeping man, worry etched into his face. Calibre and Del sat on the other side of the bed, facing him. He’d explained the reason Scotty was here, but he was unsure what they took of his old friend. Del spun a knife in his hands as he was wont to do, the blade glinting in the artificial light. Calibre’s face was unreadable and his body gave nothing away. An empty slate. Unfortunately not out of the ordinary.

Scotty woke without pause, eye’s venturing open, finding Mini’s grey hazel looking back at him. Mini waved without much movement, uncertain what Scotty would say.

“Craig! I found you!”

Mini snorted, rolling his eyes. “Sure did a hell of a job doing that. Took you long enough.”

Scotty grinned wildly, sitting up. His hands cupped his head almost instantaneously. He groaned, mouthing a few sailoresque words.

Mini cringed, “Sorry about that, mate.”

Scotty groaned again.

“Let him rest more, Craig. That headache you gave him isn’t going anywhere.” Del jumped in, standing, making for the doorway.

With a lingering glance, Mini left, following Del out the door. The two of them ended up in the derelict living room, the grey dawn sliding over the treetops into a dim sky. Mini leaned against the window sill. He stared out at the monotonous forest.

“Dude, you need to sleep,” Jon said, eyes trained on his face, but Mini refused to meet them. He didn’t want to talk about that situation right now, he had to figure out how to deal with Scotty.

“Can’t.”

“It wasn’t a request Craig,” Jon said sharply, his tone standing on the edge of a dagger.

Mini stayed quiet, peering out at the haze and twilight mist. The fog swirled in lazy spirals, guided by an invisible hand. Jon’s eyes pierced his skull, seeing every broken piece, every fractured memory.

“Talk to me then. You can’t just go around holding everything in, acting like you're fine when you hide behind that mask, vacant minded. Have you seen yourself? Heard yourself? I am sick and tired on your lies. Everyone knows you are not okay.” Jon took a breath, and Mini found the strength to glare at the man, meeting his eyes with a boiling stare. The man continued, unscathed.  “And what of Tyler? He spends his days in his head, barely acknowledging our existence, much less speaking to us. Whatever stupid thing you did, forget about it and for fuck’s sake, talk to him, to me. Anyone!”

“Stop,” Mini growled, “You don’t get—”

“Don’t you dare say I don’t understand. You should know better Craig, you of all people.” Jon cut him off, teeth bared, not unlike a wild animal. “I am the only one who has an inkling of what a fucked up past can do. The others, they may have had deaths, but we both grew up into a shittier world than that.. This isn’t the time to compare tragedies, they weigh on us both in the same ways, but one of us has learned to handle it better than the other.”

Mini wanted to slap Jon, he wanted to tell him he was wrong. All that pent up emotion, the exhaustion, the drained hate, the resurfaced memories, it left him empty. And being empty was worse than being angry, or sad, or disappointed. It made you remember the good and the bad, but see them as equals, nothing to tell them apart. It let you recall what it was like to grin at the falling rain and scream as the world tore pieces of you away, day by day. And when you were surrounded by friends, it made you lonely, a disease that poured into every vein and inhabited the bones that kept you upright. When Mini was empty, he was nothing but a shade of grey on the wall, surrounded by shadows.

But he couldn’t, Mini couldn’t hit the man who understood what this felt like, how it seared his mind and broke it. He was scattered across the floor, fragments of his dying words landing on the floor, shattered.

Mini’s heated stare, his bitter expression sank away, swallowed by the choice in Jon’s words. His vision swirled, his head became light- wordless, he slipped from the window, tracing a path to the floor against the wall. There were no tears, only the pit Mini desperately wanted to crawl into.

“Craig—”

“You’re right.” Hollow, desolate, echoing words. “You’re right,” he repeated.

The mask he had on, the real and the masqueraded were torn off, flung aside. His face abandoned, the sunken eyes, the royal purple circles under them, the alabaster skin—laid bare for Jon to see.

But Mini knew Jon had already seen those things, and more. There was nothing new to him, he had been through it all.

“But you’re not the only one who deserves an explanation. Brock and Brian should hear it too. ”

Jon studied him, his sickly appearance and heavy words. “Do what you have to. Get some fucking sleep. We’ll talk when the sun has risen.”

Mini stood, keeping his lips sealed. No more lies to tell, no more lies to keep. He desperately wanted to sleep, but his pills were gone and his human remedy wasn’t an option. The nightmares would ravage him without either.

Jon left him alone, presumably to go back to Evan. Mini wished he could hold a relationship like that with Tyler. Jon and Evan were perfect together—yes they fought sometimes, but what couple didn’t? Evan’s gentleness combated Jon’s delirium. They laughed together, they trusted each other. They were together in every sense of the word. Mini wanted that like nothing else, but his stubborn attitude and fears always overcame the desire for more.

With that thought, Mini left for his room to at least rest before the rays of the morning sun split the skies.

➖

Brock led the three of them out of the room and out into the bright autumnal day, red and orange leaves littering the ground. Barren branches reaching up into the unforgiving sky.

It was brisk, with a slight breeze- enough to warrant a coat. Mini shivered as the sun was swallowed by a stray cloud. He watched the cloud pass over the sun, waited for the familiar warmth to flood back into his skin.

“I… it was just after training. I had just beaten Nogla and Wildcat told me to go shower and change and meet him afterwards. I did, but I found him asleep in his room, so I turned and left. Apparently he woke up or something when I closed the door because he stopped me in the hallway. I teased him about falling asleep..” Mini hesitated, the memory vibrant in his head. “We joked a little more and then I mentioned his bed head. The way he looked at me then...I guess I finally realized that… that...”

He couldn't say it. It made it real, it made it true.

“Realized that you liked him back,” Brian supplied gently.

“Yeah,” Mini said miserably, looking down.

“So what went wrong?”

“I couldn't. He wanted..and I just couldn't. Fuck, I ran.”

“Craig, why couldn't you?” Brock asked, watching him struggle to get the words out.

No no no no. Those memories, those moments, they were poisonous. He shouldn't bring them back, but these were his friends and he owed it to them. Jon laid a hand on his shoulder, a brace against the malevolent thoughts. He steadied himself. They deserved to know.

He reached back into his repressed mind and pulled the drawstring open, letting the violence and oppression out.

He told them.

It had started with his father's death when he was just eleven. Killed by a drunken asshole who crossed over into oncoming traffic, ran headlong into his father’s small car, sent it flying, rolling, pitching. Nothing left but a mangled corpse beyond recognition. The driver was only sentenced to twenty years, with an option for parole. His mother started drinking, heavily. She cursed him, she hated him, told him it was his fault. And he believed her. He was eleven at the time, what else could he do? The scars lined up, always in places where no one would think to look, her scars. His thighs were a cacophony of cigarettes burns and scattered belt scars, broken into his skin. There were bruises too- a painting left on his chest every week, every Saturday.

He left at eighteen with no money, no food, and no water. He scavenged, he stole, he did what he had to. At nineteen he got a small job at a repair shop in Sacramento. He had made friends with the man who ran the shop, learned how to take care of himself. It was happenstance that the same man also ran a tiny martial arts studio. He trained there on his off time, earned himself a black belt at twenty one.

During those two years he met a girl, a girl named Lucy. He fell in love with her, treated her to movie dates and tried his best to be good enough for her. Then one night, on the day his father died he got really high, got in a bit of trouble and called for Lucy to come get him- he was bleeding from a stab wound to his stomach. Lucy arrived, she was helping him into the old truck she owned when the gunshot rang out, smashing into her spine, racing through her body and just an inch left of Mini’s chest. He recalled the sirens, the lights, and the smell of her hair. Leather and horses. She loved horses. It was his fault, his fault she was there, his fault she got shot.

She was treated, but she couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't love.

Her parents yelled at him when he tried to visit her, cursed him and reviled him. They aimed their words and shot without hesitation.

He sat in that chair, in that room for days. Until he heard that the parents pulled the plug and let her die.

The hospital billed his mother, who was somehow still alive instead of him. That was his saving grace, not that he cared at the time. He was a shattered boy who just wanted to die. The man who saved him before did it again, he didn't let Mini waste away. He forced him to work, to keep training.

Another year, another anniversary. He never got to thank the repairman- he was called home for his mother’s funeral. He hated her, hated what she did to him. He burned her, took her ashes and threw them in a river. He received news that the repairman had broken his leg and could no longer employ him.

Mini headed eastward, running from the life he knew. He ran and he ran. Until Brock found him, in their woods, broken, bleeding, and half dead.

“And you know the rest,” Mini concluded heavily, exhausted.

“Shit dude, that's fucked up,” Brian whispered, blue eyes wide.

A dark chuckle escaped him. “That's one way to put it I suppose.”

Brock put a hand on his shoulder, a silent thank you. A comfort, he supposed. Jon gave him a nod, a sign of gratitude and understanding.

Mini locked the cruel memories away, into their box in the back of his mind. He threw that key far, far away.

“Everyone I end up caring about gets hurt. It's just like in the stories. People get hurt, and I'm a magnet for suffering.”

“Wildcat doesn't need your protection, he can make his own choices. He's a grown man, Craig. You don't get to make his mind up for him. Let him choose what he wants,” Brock said, not giving Mini the chance to look away.

The clearing fell into shadow, a breeze blowing more steadily, scattering colors of maroon, gold, and umber. Mini shivered, rubbing his arms for warmth, glancing up at the clouded dotted sky.

“I don't know if I can,” he said at last.

“I believe in you Craig,” Jon spoke up, a strength in his voice that hadn’t been present before.

“Yeah, bitch, you can do this.” Brian grinned, trying to keep the mood light. Brock smacked him, earning a halfhearted glare from the man.

Mini’s smile was tainted with an emptiness inexplicable. But for the hope and meaning in Brock eyes, _m_ _aybe_ , he thought despite everything, _maybe he could._


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy an on-time update. For once.

Mini tapped his foot against the wall, lying in bed, bored. It was three in the morning and he couldn't sleep. The fight part two wasn't for another day so he didn't feel the need to take the pills. 

_ Tap _ . 

He wondered if the location was the same. 

_ Tap.  _

How was he going to talk to Tyler? The man shunned any encounters with him and he had to repress the urge to look away from those sky blue eyes. 

_ Tap _ . 

Mini groaned, rising to his feet. Fuck it, he was going to go do something. He stretched and headed for the kitchen to make himself a late night snack. 

The wood floor was cool against the soles of his feet, the air gentle as the fan creaked in endless loops. Out of the passing windows, Mini could see thousands of stars, unbroken and steadfast. The rough grain of the trim grazed his fingers, clinging to his skin as if it wanted him to stay and stare out into the abyss of space. 

He would have if his stomach didn't rumble, reminding him. To his surprise, the kitchen light was on, bathing the hallway in it's pleasant glow. He paused at the doorway, cautiously peering around the corner. 

Slumped over the counter, sitting on a stool, was Tyler, snores reverberating, soft against the granite. Mini watched him, frozen in indecision. 

The tips of his brown hair rustled with every breath, mussed. His face was turned toward Mini, beautiful blues hidden. His lips were open slightly, puffs of air escaping. When relaxed, Tyler seemed to burn with an aura of strength. 

_ He's fucking gorgeous.  _

For the first time his reaction was not to shove the thought away, instead he agreed with his inner assessment. Fucking hell,  _ he was stupid _ . So, so stupid. 

With a soft smile, Mini quietly made his coffee, the machine grinding against his ears as it did its job. Somehow Tyler never woke up, despite the loud noise in the otherwise silent house. Only the omniscient hum of lights and electronics could be heard tonight, the critters out in the dark were fast asleep. 

As the dark liquid filled his mug, Mini continued to watch the sleeping man. The tiny scar on his lip stood out, from a childhood accident, he'd said. Mini had to resist the urge to run his hands along his face, through his hair, along his trimmed beard. Unconsciously, he took a step forward before he noticed, pulling himself back, grabbing the hot mug and tapping a sip of the steaming coffee, nothing added. 

He swore, the coffee burning his tongue—coughing awkwardly to stem the pain. With great difficulty, he reigned in his breathing and froze, feeling a pair of eyes on his back. Mini hated making choices. Should he run and hide? Turn around and face the man behind him? Act like he didn't notice? 

Brock believed in him. Brian did too, in his own way. Did Mini believe in himself? That question was easily answered—a resounding  _ no. _

But Tyler was his friend and this tension between them was exhausting and stupid. Friends shouldn't act like they don't care, they shouldn't run, they shouldn't act like these past few months hadn't happened.

With all the strength he had, Mini turned around, seeking cerulean. 

A blank expression, crafted with care, painted Tyler’s face. Perhaps it was just something Mini was good at, but he could see anger and pain written in the corners too, a symbol to his own stupidity. 

“Tyler—” he started, unsure what he was going to say.

“Mini, don't.” Tyler’s voice was rough, grated. Mini swallowed hard, the baritone sending a shiver down his spine. Mini’s eyes danced, pirouetting around the elder’s face. It hit him that he used Mini’s masked name. He barely stopped the flash of hurt from crossing his face.

“It's Craig.” Tyler stared at him, and perhaps it was intended as a glare, but all Mini saw was uncertainty and composure he couldn't mimic. 

He took a step forward, closing the distance, although the granite counter top still separated them, coffee forgotten. 

“No masks anymore Tyler, plastic or emotional. This is stupid, this feud. We're friends, we shouldn't be doing this to each other. Dude, I need you back,” he said, sliding the plastic off his face, letting the man see the purple circles etched under his eyes, the same pallid appearance as when they were first unveiled. 

Something broke in Tyler’s eyes, a dam burst apart and all those repressed emotions erupted, violent and visceral. A weak smile crusted on his face, paper thin. “You look terrible.” 

Mini laughed, a weak sound bubbling out of him. “Yeah. I do.”

“Pills?” 

“I had a bad nightmare and broke the bottle, splashing the pills out and contaminating them. Haven't ordered any new ones.” he shrugged.

Tyler’s eyes narrowed at him. “Craig…” 

He threw a hand up, “I know. I'll get to it.” 

Tyler shook his head, a mixture of relief and tired joy in his lingering gaze. “My room or yours?” 

“Mine. It actually has character,” Mini replied easily, taking a sip of his coffee, which he had just remembered was in his hand. 

Tyler snorted. “Whatever you say bitch. Let's get some sleep.”

And that was that. No big explanation, no breakdowns. They didn't need it, they just needed sleep. There were other days for reasons and pouring oneself out into the open. With a content grin hidden on his face, Mini curled into Tyler’s chest, wallowing in the warmth and comfort as they both fell asleep slowly, and all at once. 

It would be okay, today. 

***

 

To say the next morning was a shock to everyone but Tyler, Brock and Brian would be an understatement. Both men had walked in together, bedheads and baggy clothes. Mug in hand, Mini wandered over to the coffee machine, a sleepy smile printed on his face. Marcel’s jaw dropped, while Luke only stared, unable to form words as Tyler pulled Mini in for a hug from behind, dropping his head on the shorter man, much to his chagrin. 

“Wildcat. I want my coffee.” 

Tyler hummed, not moving away. Mini huffed, but couldn't help the silly grin upturn his lips higher. A light blush coated his cheeks, but it was barely visible. 

“Coffee. I need my coffee,” Mini tried again, to no avail.

The machine dinged, signaling it was done. Mini turned around, into Tyler’s embrace, his face inches from the other man’s. An evil idea popped into his head and with two swift hands, he started tickling Tyler. 

Tyler’s hands dropped from his waist immediately, pushing Mini away, laughter boiling out of him. “Stop,” he whined, voice several octaves higher. 

Mini rushed for his coffee, cackling merrily. He brandished the mug as if it were a golden treasure and proceeded to drink greedily from it.

“Fuck!” The brew was steaming hot.

“You burn yourself again?” Tyler raised a single eyebrow. 

“No,” Mini scowled, taking another fiery sip, burning his tongue even more in defiance. 

“Idiot,” Tyler muttered fondly. 

Heat stirred in Mini’s stomach, simmering. Why did Tyler have to be so handsome? 

Luke and Marcel had yet to utter a sound, both rendered hopelessly speechless. Calibre was in the shadowed corner of the room, a faint smile on his lips at the sight of the four. He was happy Wildcat and Craig had finally made up. 

With a grandiose entrance as ever, Brian waltzed into the room on his face. Not literally, but he did trip over nothing, landing sprawled out on the floor with a loud thud. Behind him, Evan burst into giggles.

“You cunt,” Brian cried out. “I could have died!” 

“You're fine,” Tyler observed astutely from by Mini.

Evan stepped over the dramatic man-child, still giggling. Brian writhed on the floor, bonking his head against the leg of a chair. 

“Fucking motherfucker,” Brian grumbled, rubbing his sore head as he rose. 

“As eloquent as ever I see,” Brock said as he strolled in, sending a nod of acknowledgement to Tyler and him. 

“Excuse me, but what the fuck?” Marcel exclaimed, eyes wide. 

“What?” Everyone but Luke chorused, grinning.

Marcel scrambled to find the words, hands jerking about in an abstract fashion. He looked like a headless chicken. Mini frowned at the thought.

Luke stared at him in disbelief, Marcel in arrant confusion. Mini shrugged his shoulders. Tyler bent down to Mini’s ear and whispered that he was going to go shower and change. He left another message too—one that made Mini flush red. With a shit-eating grin, he left.

Brock raised an eyebrow at the open display of.. . Mini didn't know how to categorize it. He preferred not too, letting it remain nameless and ambiguous. 

Mini sighed, drinking from his cooler mug of coffee, watching Brian bicker with Brock. Marcel started preparing breakfast after a moment. Luke was watching with avid interest, eyes peering intently at the conversing men. 

Mini sat and chatted with them amicably after a few minutes passed, munching on the  enjoyable salted scrambled eggs Marcel had magically whipped up for everyone.

Tyler returned later, hair spiked at an angle. A steaming cup of warm apple cider sat in front of Mini, freshly made. Tyler stole the chair next to Mini from Brock with an unceremonious shove, and took a large gulp from the hot drink. 

“Tyler!” Mini admonished, frowning at the tall man. 

Tyler raised an eyebrow, as if to say ‘what are you going to do about it’ and took another sip. Mini sighed, hiding the slight upturn of his lips. What a child. 

“You're such a child dude.” Brian muttered, echoing Mini’s thoughts. 

“Fuck you.” 

“That's reserved for Brock.” Brian said with a lavish grin. Brock slapped Brian, the skin smarting, Brock’s face as red at the fading mark. 

“Obviously.” 

Mini shook his head at the three idiots, smothering his laughter. A foreign hand rested on his shoulder, turning him slightly. His eyes found Del’s, the icy blue startlingly vibrant. 

Del motioned for them to leave with a jerk of his head. Mini slipped off his chair, feet hitting the ground with a muffled thump. He shared a glance with Tyler before following Del down the hallway and outside onto the porch steps. Del ran a hand through his dark brown hair.

The wood creaked as Mini settled, eyes glazing over the serene forest around him. The wind blew, catching leaves and sending them spiraling downward. The air was crisp, tasting of earth and fire. A ghost escaped his lips as he breathed, dissipating into nothing. 

“What are we going to do about Scotty?” 

The question was blunt, just like Del. 

“I need to talk to him yet. He and I have some catching up to do,” Mini replied easily, lazily.

“I meant about him knowing where we are and what we look like,” Del added with a more serious tone. 

Mini hadn’t thought about that yet and consequently didn’t have an answer. He contemplated their options. He trusted Scotty not to tell anyone, but the rest of the gang didn’t. They didn’t even know him. He frowned. Could Scotty stay here and become one of them? That would save them a lot of trouble, but if Mini was correct, Scotty wouldn’t want that. He was a wanderer, a gypsy in the sense that he never stayed in one place for long. The man hadn’t found a place to settle by the looks of it. Mini didn’t know if he ever would. 

“I don’t know,” he confessed, glancing back at Del. “He’s my friend, we can’t interrogate him or force him to forget. He’s a good person, just lost. I know you don’t trust him, but I do. Give me time, please.” 

Del gazed back at him evenly. “You have a week. Make sure by then you have an answer.”

Mini nodded. Del would sway Calibre’s mind if need be, his friend was unusually good at that sort of thing. He wasn’t sure how Jon did it, but he’d seen the results before. A week would be enough time, it had to be.

“And Craig?” Del added. “Don’t drag up anymore drama with his arrival. Wildcat’s already on edge, don’t push him over with this.”

Mini punch Del in the shoulder in response. 


	13. Chapter 13

Scotty was dangling from the roof by four fingers, two stories above the ground, his feet swaying in the autumn wind. Mini watched as the man performed seventeen pull ups by his fingertips in something akin to awe and frustration with the boys around him. Nogla and Evan were cheering him on, counting up for him. Tyler, Del, and him were looking on with defeated faces. They had unsuccessfully tried to stop the crazy man, Mini with knowing reluctance. He knew once Scotty got an idea into his head, there was no stopping him. 

Mini was brought out of his head as Scotty let out a high pitched scream, his body plummeting to the earth. Quicker than he thought he could move, Mini tore out of Tyler’s arms, crashing to the ground as Scotty’s body hit his at ten miles per hour. 

But Mini was prepared, muscles relaxed and body limp to take the hit of the older male. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt- because the impact managed to dislocate his shoulder as he landed slightly off, and his knee was probably badly bruised. Mini didn’t particularly care though. 

Scotty was fine—groaning, but fine. 

“You’re a crazy motherfucker.”  Mini coughed, swearing as he shoved Scotty off him with his good arm, rolling away as he did. 

From above him, he heard the grin in Scotty’s voice. “You’re damn right and you love it.”

Tyler was by his side already, bristling. His arms were crossed and he had the classic Wildcat look on his face. “Craig…”

Mini waved him off. “Dude I’m okay. I mean my shoulder hurts but I’m fine.” 

He climbed to his feet, his left knee aching all the while. His right arm hung limply at his side. He cast his arm a stubborn glance, glaring at the appendage as if it would suddenly hop back into place. 

Tyler raised an eyebrow at said arm. 

“Fine, maybe it hurts a little, but Brock’ll pop it back into place.” Mini was lying, it hurt more than just ‘a little’, but he wasn’t about to tell that to Tyler. Tyler had a short temper and was liable to be set off by the smallest things. 

Tyler grumbled and gave him a pointed stare before turning on his back foot, leaving to go retrieve Brock. 

Mini let his face twist into a grimace as Tyler disappeared from view, his left arm coming up to cradle his injured one. Nogla watched him with a single, raised eyebrow. 

“I’m fine,” he said to no one. 

Evan and Del rolled their eyes, while Scotty brushed himself off. Mini saw the casual disregard and huffed, catching himself from muttering a few choice words that would make Tyler proud. 

“Dude, I told you everything would turn out fine,” Scotty tried to say, yelping as Mini stalked past him, annoyance radiating off the injured party. 

Mini fumbled with doorknob, casting it aside with enough force to rattle the hinges against the peeling interior wall. Brock appeared not a second later with Tyler standing behind him, sharp eyes taking in the spun door and Mini’s frustrated eyes. 

“Again?” Brock said, exasperated. 

Mini didn’t have to nod, he just followed Brock into his ‘office’. 

“It’s not my fault this time,” Mini blurted into the cornered silence. 

Brock hummed, his fingers pressing into Mini’s shoulder where the joint should have connected. But it wasn’t and the prodding sent jolts of stinging pain down his chest and arm.

A hiss escaped, falling flat on the ground as Brock continued. Mini kept his back upright, a habit he’d picked up from watching Del and Cartoonz. His eyes drifted from the mess of paper of Brock’s desk to Tyler’s intense look. The man was never anything but, the idea of mild glances or moderate conversations foreign. 

With a single thrust andan audible click, Brock shoved his arm back into the socket. Mini clenched his teeth, but otherwise failed to show the wave of fire that had engulfed him for a few seconds before fading into a dull ache. 

“There you go, ready for the next climbing session,” Brock said as he shooed them out the door. 

“Come on lovebirds, Calibre called a meeting.” Brian called out as he passed them, a wide grin visible. 

Mini sputtered on the spot, unable to form coherent words. Tyler stared at the oak door. Sighing, he reluctantly fell into step with the idiot beside him as they made their way outside and down below the shed. 

Del, Evan, Nogla, Marcel, and Luke were already sitting around the table, chatting among themselves. The three found their appropriate places, waiting for the remaining few to arrive. Mini spoke quietly with Brian about the history of ducks and Takis. 

Mini looked up as Brock and Calibre walked in together, Scotty trailing a few steps behind, his voice fading away. 

Lui didn’t bother to sit, staying on his feet as the other two found a chair. 

Scotty looked lost among the warriors, the ex-assassins, and the fighters. He was a funny dude with a humorous facade, skilled only in surviving the streets on large cities, theft his weapon of choice. Scotty could steal just about anything off anyone and no one would be the wiser. In the past he’d stolen Mini’s phone, a few daggers, and a box of unused condoms. Mini cringed at the memory. 

“We’re here to discuss two matters, one is sitting at the end of the table, and the other waiting to attempt to kick our asses.” Calibre announced, clasping the back of his chair. 

Scotty huffed, his eyes rolling upward. Mini gave him a hard look. It was not the time for the man to be facetious or petty. Scotty stuck out his tongue, but stopped squirming in his seat. 

Mini returned his attention to the front, where Calibre was patiently waiting, his posture slack, shoulders relaxed. Lui pushed backward, his weight falling back to the heels of his feet. 

“We’ll start with our bigger problem. What do you think we should do about Scotty?” Lui gestured to the gathered group, giving room for them to speak.

“Brock, weren’t you working on that amnesia serum?” Tyler’s eyes darted over to the medic.

Brock started, eyes widening for a moment. “You’d consider that an option? I haven’t had the chance to test it out on anyone yet, there’s so much which could go wrong!” 

“I was just throwing it out there dude, we need to keep our options out on the table.” Tyler threw his hands up in surrender to Brock’s doubt. 

Mini stared at Tyler with a mixture of emotions. Displeasure courses through his mind, and he frowned. “Wildcat, we’re not wiping Scotty’s memory! He’s my friend.” 

Tyler huffed, but leaned back in his chair, conceding his point. 

Calibre’s eyes flickered around the room, dancing across each face, all in a moment of uncertainty tanged silence. “Anyone else?”

Scotty spoke up, stealing the brief quiet away from the steel cornered room. “Do I get a say in this or am I just here to witness everyone make a decision for me?”

Mini agreed with his friend on this, he thought Scotty should be able to have some input on his future. He set his hands on the table, leaning forward, tapping a stray foot against the uneven concrete. 

But Mini wasn’t the spokesman for the team, that was Del, Lui’s right hand man. They all looked at Del, who ran a hand through his dark hair, face contorted with deep thought. 

“Well,” he began, fidgeting in his seat. “that would be logical.” 

Del, despite being very good at his job, hated the spotlight. He preferred remaining anonymous, his sun kissed face covered by Jason’s mask he loved so dearly. Mini had thought for almost a year that the man was perfect at everything he did, until Del had to give a summary in front of their coordinators of their recent progress. That had been the first time Mini’d seen Del become Jon. 

Nogla voiced a thought that was creeping forward in Mini’s head. “Is it? Does he understand the situation?”

Mini turned to Scotty, gesturing for Scotty to speak. 

“I, er, guess I presumed that this was kind of like a group who did the illegal stuff?” Scotty ended with a high note, lips pulled back in a weak smile. 

Evan laughed. “Yes, we certainly do illegal things. Or rather, will do illegal things. Haven’t gotten there yet, but that’ll change soon.”

“Should we tell him the rest?” Marcel questioned, peering at Calibre for an answer. 

Lui tapped his chin, debating internally before coming to a solid decision. “Go ahead. Mini, you can explain.”

“You know in movies where politicians give orders for their dirty work to be done, habitually never doing it themselves’? It’s like we’re the people who do the dirty work, but we keep to contract killings only. Perhaps some might call us assassins, but the term doesn’t quite fit,” Mini recited from when Calibre had taken him aside and had given him a lecture on it, “we might do a few low key hostage situations later, but those can get messy. We’re much better equipped for killing small groups who need to disappear. That’s what our training does. Although we may not be in the forests or out in the wild for our hunts, we will have the skill sets to navigate the winding roads, twisting alleys, and crowds of cities. Currently an unnamed sponsor is funding our training until we are good enough to start raking in the contracts.” 

“So you’ll murder people for money? Sounds...pretty illegal.” Scotty mumbled, eyes taking in each participant with a distinct, scrutinizing look. 

Everyone nodded along with it, murmuring in collective agreement. 

Scotty shrugged. “There’s a lot of fucked up people in this world, why the hell not? What, the other day some dude in power was getting accused of sexual assault.”

Stuttering silence filled the underground room. 

Mini sighed.  _ I should have known.  _ Scotty was as spontaneous as anyone could get. Sometimes it was fun, leading to great unique experiences, and others were stupid, like the one he had just made. 

“Scott,” the warning in Mini’s tone was explicit and unmistakable, “think about what you’re saying. I know you had a messed up childhood with absentee parents, but this...this is not something you can back out of.”

“It solves your problem and what does my lack of parental figures have to do with it?” Scotty crossed his arms and sat back in his chair. 

Mini shook his head. “That’s a whole other conversation. But the point remains, are you sure?” 

“When am I not?” 

“Do you want me to list them? How about—” 

“That’s not important!” Scotty interrupted him. “What’s important is that, yes, for once I’m sure of it without a doubt.” 

“Calibre?” 

Lui was quiet for a few moments as he pondered Scotty’s proposition. Mini’s mind was recoiling from the thought. Scotty was an old friend, one who helped him back on his feet, but that had been years ago. Mini was not the same person, the same guy who stood with him as they drunkenly sauntered down the Vegas strip at two in the morning, bellows of laughter erupting at the most mundane things. A fountain, a red truck, a man with a crazy beard. 

No, Craig was not broken like he had been. Maybe he was still chipped in places, but they were healing, and even if it was slow, the progress ever since Wildcat had decided he was worth something had been exponential, despite the few ups and downs. 

A nostalgic smile turned his lips upward, fond memories of his adventures with Scotty flooding across his vision like pages in a book, but these had no order and flashed by in moments to quick to register. There were thousands of them—bursting lights and cracked pavement and echoes of car horns, the endless chatter of cafes. 

“Cartoonz, What do you think?” Calibre addressed the quiet ex soldier. 

He glanced at Scotty, examining the man’s build, his serious expression and hopeful eyes. “Give him a shot, but no more stunts like earlier today.”

And that was the end of it. It required no more discussion, once a decision was reached, they never lingered on the subject.

Calibre started on the upcoming fight that night. It was the same as the last, save for which side they were on. Mini frowned. Since they were defending it changed everything, therefore it was  _ not _ the same. 

He tossed the superfluous thought away. 

Within a half hour they planned their strategy, had memorized how each would move and create a distraction, all while Scotty watched in fascination. The seamless adjustments made in a split second after a flaw was pointed out were, if Mini was to narrate, impressive.  

Weapons would be given out at eight, they would go at nine thirty. Simple, easy, done. 

Tyler pulled him aside after everyone had dispersed, drawing him close in the now nearly empty room. Mini grinned, unable to stop the instinctive movement as Tyler rested his head on his own, small, warm puffs of breath skimming through his short hair. 

“Don’t get hurt tonight. I don’t want to repeat last time.”

Mini cringed at the dreadful memory. “I won’t break any wrists or induce any unnecessary rage this time. I promise.” 

“Good.” 

Tyler wrapped his arms in a backward hug, pressing Mini into his chest, the heat seeping through the thick sweatshirt Mini was donning. 

No, Mini wasn’t the same. He had Tyler to fix those chipped pieces and perhaps soon he would man up and kiss the dude, but too much was going on between Scotty’s appearance and the dark fights and their upcoming contracts at the moment. 

He wasn’t procrastinating.

Mini leaned back into the tall man, relishing the comfort of safety that wormed its way into his body. 

At least, that’s what he told himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did the physics check and it is possible for Mini to catch Scotty, with extra time to spare. Math for the sake of English. Anywho, hope you enjoyed and don't forget to leave a comment if you enjoyed or thought something was just too cliche.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have fun with this chapter, it's one of my favorites.

_ **One year later...** _

Mini burst through the thin line of cherry trees, face red behind the mask. He didn’t pay attention to the hollows and mounds of the notched earthen floor, nor the scraggy branches waiting to snap out and cling to his skin. 

Mini’s eyes were set on something far more terrifying. 

Beyond the patchy cover of the blooming bushes, he could barely make out the form of the man he knew as a brother. The urban stink of concrete and car smoke fought to dominate, but it stopped bothering Mini as his eyes struggled to comprehend the sight.

Before Mini had a chance to respond to what he saw, a shot rang out, and the brick wall to his left splashed chunks of red and grey across his face. Adrenaline pumping, Mini blindly shot in the direction, diving behind a row of hydrangeas. He cursed his inability for good cover. 

The flowers clogged his vision, but he listened for the crunch of grass underfoot. The spindly bushes only gave him enough time to realize he choose the wrong fucking spot,  _ big time. _

The cold metal against the back of his head and the whisper of words were warning enough for him though, and the slightest give was all he needed. Mini spun to the side, whipping his head out of the way of gunfire. He broke the man’s arm with a single, hard strike to the elbow using a quick arm bar. Before his attacker had the chance to cry out, Mini leveled his gun and shot, a bullet drilling into his brain and reducing it to soup. 

Mini dropped the dead body, shoving it away from him. He’d have to get Ohm’s team out to clean it up. They were good at making bodies disappear. He had larger priorities at the moment, like the olive skinned man lying still on the stone pathway of some apartment building he didn’t care to know the name of. 

Evan was face up, in a pool of his own blood. 

_ Fuck _ . 

Mini wanted to scream at Evan to get up, to scare him and say  _ gotcha _ . Anything but this,  _ anything but this.  _

Mini was beside Evan in half a second. The thin liquid was smooth and glossy in the yellow light of the street lamp. Mini found the wound- a thin, deep line stretching from the collarbone to Evan’s elbow in a diagonal cut. It was pulled back, revealing bone. Someone had dug around  _ inside  _ Evan.

A quick word from Mini had Brock on his way.

Hands slick with Evan’s blood, Mini tore off strips from the bandages he had on him, tearing the fabric of Evan’s shirt. He wrapped the bandages tight, trying to stop the sluicing blood. Luke and Ohm were taking care of the remaining gang members, sniping from the rooftops. 

_ Why did Evan move off on his own? Why couldn’t he have waited till I arrived? _

Why. 

Mini watched Evan breathe, his chest moving too quick, to quick for Mini’s liking. The cut was deep, likely severing muscle. It would take a long time before Evan could resume the regular training he was used too. 

Evan would be fine. Evan would be well, this was just a shoulder injury. Mini stomped out his dark thoughts under a jagged boot. 

A ragged laugh left Mini’s lips at the thought of Evan cooped up in a room with Brock, complaining that he couldn’t do anything. He’d been the same way. 

Evan groaned, the sound scraping through the still air. Mini smoothed his blood-matted hair, curling his fingers through the short locks in a gentle fashion. 

“Mini!” 

Mini’s head shot up, searching for the source of the yell. He spotted Brock burst around a corner, skidding to a stop by Evan’s side. 

Brock rambled on about pressure and stemming the blood flow, but Mini couldn’t stop his mind from swerving back to the prone man. Del was going to murder each and every one of them for not being there and Mini could already see the cold and dark rush into those blue eyes. 

Evan would be alive, but at what cost to the sanity of his best friend?

Mini turned from the manic grins and the delirium crossed fingers dancing with the knives, slaving his mind back to the present. Brock was finishing wrapping the deep cut on Evan’s arm with the reddening bandages. Evan seemed to be moving in and out of consciousness. The little sluggish movements he made slammed back down with a single stern look from Brock. 

“Let’s get him out of here. The truck should be here soon. Ohm and Calibre can finish up on their own. We had most of the gang downed already. Luke will be driving the truck.” Brock paused before adding, “we’ll need Luke once Jon catches wind of this.” 

Luke was the only one who could snap Jon out of his mania spells, the man’s past a mystery still to everyone but Calibre’s right hand man. 

A bright red truck squealed it tires as it braked on the asphalt, Luke’s steeled eyes peering out of the window. Brock and Mini gently carried Evan to the backseat of the truck, the doctor of the two staying in the back to keep Evan stable while Mini sat shotgun. 

Mini pressed a hand to his forehead, the cold metal in his hand smooth and cool against the rough heat emitting from his skin. It was going to be a long night.

****

“Your team got hurt. So what? Deal with it and get me my money. I want those boys dead too, no more mistakes. You have forty eight hours.” blared the voice of the speaker phone in Calibre’s hand. 

A bout of silence ensued before a quiet ‘yes sir’ ended the call with their current client. Mini frowned at the rude customer. Most were fearful of being caught and therefore cautious not to piss them off, but this dude was ultimatum extraordinaire. 

Brian glared at the offending phone. “What a fucking dipshit.” 

Calibre shoved the black phone into his pocket. “Do not dis our clients Brian.” 

Brian shook his head and stalked away, cursing under his breath. Mini sent Calibre a helpless look before following the bearded man. 

“Brian...” Mini grabbed his shoulder, turning the man around to face him. “What’s going on with you? You’re disrespecting Calibre, you haven’t smiled, much less made a joke since I got back… dude what is going through your head? ” 

Brian stayed quiet, radiating frustration and defeat. His humorous eyes bitter, his confidence withered to a brittle stalk of hay. Mini saw his tense shoulders, his tight lips and his inability to keep Mini’s scrutinizing gaze. A man such as him, who laughed with vigor and freedom, who lived life how he wanted to, by his rules, only to be brought to his knees by… by what Mini didn’t know. All he knew was that Brian didn’t deserve to feel it. 

“Talk to me. You did the same so let me help you now.” Mini slid down the wall and patted the empty space beside him. 

Brian wordlessly followed suit. He landed with a solid thud, but it never showed. He remained in his own world, lost. 

Mini let the silence reign, waiting until Brian chose to speak. 

“I could have been there, Craig, and I wasn’t. Evan’s hurt because I decided to be stupid and I hate this fucking feeling of not knowing.” 

Mini recalled that Brian was originally supposed to be on the job with them before he went and sprained his ankle trying to mimic Mini’s tree hopping on rooftops instead. 

“I could have stopped this bullshit from happening if I had just thought it through. I made a mistake and now it’s all that matters. They only see the mistakes, our clients. That’s all they know. One fucking mistake.” 

Mini shook his head. “Your mistakes do  _ not _ define who you are Brian.”

“Bullshit. My mistakes, everyone’s motherfucking mistakes, that’s what you, what they will remember. That’s who we are to them. Just another fucking mistake.” 

Mini hated those words. He was revolted by them, they soured his mind and violated his thoughts.  _ Because they’re true _ , a voice whispered, sending a shiver up his spine. 

“No, don’t you  _ ever  _ say that again!” Mini growled vehemently, taking Brian and himself by surprise. “I don’t want hear that again. You are more than a fucking mistake, who cares what they think? Brian you are so much more than that—you’re life cannot be summed up with one or two words, not even a million.” 

But of course Brian latched onto the one thing Mini couldn’t refute. 

“You agree then, that they see me as a mistake.” It was a sagging of the shoulders, an exhale of stale breath, the distant sound of a door slamming that tore Mini apart and exemplified Brian’s self-loathing. 

And the same buzz of life that filled the void as Brian stood up and padded away, left Mini with the familiar loneliness he had once called home. He let his head bang once for frustration, twice for helplessness, and thrice for not being good enough. The ache leached his capacity to stop the memories of the prior day. 

 

_ Brock called their contact with a PhD from the hospital, the ER’s best practitioner, alerting him of their situation and needs. Droidd would be there in four hours Brock said, after his shift was over with. He said to hook Evan up and stop the bleeding till then. Beyond that, Brock’s skills were outmatched... _

_ The trek back to the old dilapidated house never felt so long. The minutes passed by in days, the seconds in hours. Evan coughed wetly every now and then, worrying Mini. Despite Brock’s reassurances, Mini couldn’t stop the concern on his face from showing... _

_ Del’s eyes traveled the groups length as they entered, breaking as he saw Evan on a stretcher. Mini thought he knew what Del would be like, thought he understood the anger he would see, but the shift from devastation to rage with so fast, like the snap of a finger, burned so brightly in those pale blue eyes that even Luke was taken aback. The cold fire silently stormed, unstoppable and unquenchable. And it frightened Mini to his bones... _

_ Del came back later with blood dripping from his hands and a chilling grin painted on his face in crimson. The malice embedded in his gaze stole Mini’s breath away and reinforced his fear of Delirious’ dark side. The very steps he took were saturated with power and venomous malevolence, his silky smile a mere forethought... _

_ Mini had seen horror, but had not seen the rib bones ripped from their caged bodies, laid bare of a table before.  _

_ Delirious just broadened his grin.  _

_ “That,” he claimed, “is your clients.”  _

_ Calibre had given him a hard stare. _

_ “Our client,” he corrected.  _

_ Mini held his breath as Delirious’s gaze turned to him. Mini knew his friend was in there somewhere, but for all he had, Jon appeared to be lost... _

 

“Craig?” 

Mini jolted sideways at the sound of Jon, away from the man. He shook himself and stood, cursing his tendency to daydream and be inconsiderate. 

Mini stumbled over his words in a rush to say something, anything. “Uh, hey. Jon.” 

The look in Jon’s eyes was one of guilt. “I’m sorry if I startled you. You looked… empty.” 

“I just spoke with Brian. He blames himself for what happened to Evan. I tried to tell him otherwise, but he wasn’t having it. Too stubborn.” Mini explained. 

He left out the second half. It didn’t feel right to tell Jon that he was scared of Delirious’s capabilities. It would hit too close to home and Mini knew what it would do Jon’s nightmares. 

Jon looked like he didn’t know how to respond. Mini felt the same. They stood there listless, striated in the hallway. 

Mini had grown accustomed to these people, the raucous laughter and horrible jokes and the constant yelling or pranking. There was always a buzz in the background, and without it, the house fell into an estranged silence. 

They weren’t the same people, six months ago they had laughter and grins painting the morning breeze but these days it was the sound of quiet conversations about missions, the dull news of more dead, or the relief of coming home alive one more day. The noise of a door opening was contorted into a mesh of trepidation and assuagement, the anxiety of ‘ _ will they come home’, _ or ‘ _ who came home?’  _  ever present in Mini’s mind. 

His nights with Tyler had grown quieter with it, the tolls of murder hard, even the crass attitude Tyler kept was shaken by the constant bloodshed. The shared time between them became more precious, his voice a comfort embedding itself in Mini’s heart. They avoided the topic of relationships, Tyler didn’t push him, for which Mini was grateful. He couldn’t shake the feeling of uncertainty in his heart, nor the logical part of him that told him that this was not the time, amongst the days of avoiding police and bullets. 

Next to him, Jon was adrift in a lagoon of lies his mind attempted to create to block the bloodstains on his hands and the sound of bone  _ ripping.  _ The crunching, the crumbling, the jagged eyes and words. Harsh light, breaking open the film over his memory, crashing down, collapsing inward like a star before it blows- a daze of colors and images flipped upside down into a monotone roll of desperation. 

Both heads jerked to attention as the sound of footsteps collided into ears, eyes snapping upward. It was Brock, rainbow tank and all. But the worry in his eyes was contagious and Mini felt it clench around his chest. 

“Jon, I need to talk to you.” he glanced at Mini. “Alone if you wouldn’t mind.” 

Jon’s brown hair flopped as he nodded, his face scoured clean of recognizable emotion. Mini wanted to reach out, but words were beyond consolation. Brock motioned to him to stay where he was while they spoke. 

He watched, limp, as the two found a room, dread wrapping its claws around him. Brock’s face had been a concoction of messy grief and failure. Mini had a sinking feeling Evan was in trouble. 

Mini hoped desperately with what hope he had left in him that he was wrong. But experience had taught it was futile to do so. 

The floorboards were started to warp, the walls appeared to be crumbling away, the glass panes clouding over with dust and car exhaust. And Evan...

Jon burst from the room, the door clattering against the wall with a smack that echoed in Mini’s head. The man was gone before Mini could even feel surprised, dashing down the hallway past him. 

_ Fuck _ . That could only mean… Mini couldn’t help the pressure build in his head, the desire to collapse and cease overwhelming. The pressure was increasing violently, the need to punch something burning in him.  

Brock saw Mini’s face and saw how his emotions were mirrored so vividly as Mini sagged against the wall, stumbling over the terrifying fact. 

“I’m sorry. I thought he was fine and I fell asleep and then he was...” Brock trailed off, his words failing to get past his lips. 

Mini barely dared ask. “Is he still alive?”

“Yes, but it won’t be long. The infection has control now.” 

Mini exhaled a trembling breath. “What,” he stopped, preparing himself for an answer, “was it?” 

The older man ran a hand through his short hair, eyes tired. It wasn’t the exhaustion of a long, arduous day, no. This kind ran deeper than bone. It clung to every corner, every cranny of his mind and saturated his mental strength with weakness. 

“Sepsis. It’s a blood infection that has an incredibly high mortality rate and it kills quickly. He’ll be going through organ failure soon. I asked Jon if he would want me to put him down to stop the pain.” 

The breath Mini had been holding was gone and he was choking on air. He didn’t feel the pressure clamp down tighter, he didn’t feel much of anything. It vanished and the emptiness poured in. 

“Droidd is watching over him. You can come with me back. It will just be the five of us in the room.” Brock gently propelled Mini forward, down to their version of an ICU. “I told Lui to keep everyone else away. He’s personally keeping Tyler busy. Jon will need you, you are the one who will understand the most.” 

Mini found solace in the numbing cold. “What about Luke?”

“Jon didn’t want him near, I don’t know why. He wouldn’t say.” 

There was the door. The hinges were rusted, the wood of the door old and dry. It creaked at Brock twisted the handle to reveal the chaos of death inside. 

The old bed they had Evan on was a mess. Rumbled sheets, stained and weathered. But there Evan lay, wracked with chills. The wound was not covered, the stitching pulled tight. Around it, red spots, rashes Mini had never seen before, speckled the skin. 

There were a few sounds amongst the silence. Evan’s rapid, broken breathing. Jon’s muttered sweet nothings, and the beep of the whirling machine. Too quick between each beep, too much heartbreak. 

Arlan was monitoring the man and machine, eyes beaming back and forth. He didn’t look up at their entrance, ruffled hair and baggy eyes a direct embodiment of Brock’s exhaustion. 

“Less than three hours.” Arlan’s voice broke the disquiet, shattering Mini out of his daze. 

_ Fuck _ . 

And somehow, despite the gathering storm of whirling apathy, Mini found tears falling. 

****

In the end, Jon, voice shaking violently, gave Arlan the green light to end it before the infection did. 

In the end, Mini was hugging Jon in a void they both shared. 

In the end, Evan didn’t get to live, Mini’s hope a lost road in a city of strangers. 

  
  
  
  
  


This. This is how it felt. 

 

_ Abandoned. Barren. Empty. _

 

But somehow the words still didn’t compare to the torn hole in Jon’s heart. 

 

Once. Twice. Thrice. 

The fourth time Mini took that knife from Jon that night, he had had enough. Maybe they were burning alive, maybe they were drowning too, but Mini refused to see another friend die. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if he had too. 

After the yelling had stopped, after the anger had dissipated, Jon’s mind went blank and Mini watched as the man he once knew disappeared under a veil of darkness. The grin grew until those lips were split so wide Mini thought they would rip.

Jon was gone and Delirious was here. 

It  _ terrified _ him. 

 

****

Delirious had left that night, leaving in his wake a broken man and a broken body. Delirious had left behind his sanity, his compassion, and his family. Luke was wrought with self loathing and placed the blame of Jon’s disappearance on himself. Brock’s eyes were heavy with the weight in Mini’s heart. Brian was trying to forget, but as each day passed, the growing storm in his throat became more violent, leaving him without a viable target. Calibre moved Tyler up to Jon’s old place until their injured friend returned. 

Mini barely said more than a few words a day, reserved usually for Tyler, a brief reassurance that he wasn’t falling apart to the man who held him close every night. Mini thought he should be falling apart, scattered around the floor like broken glass, but as a week passed, and then another, he found he didn’t have the capacity to break anymore. He’d broken so many times, in so many ways, there wasn’t anything left to break. 

It didn’t mean he didn’t miss Evan, because there was a hole, a jagged edged chasm in the team where Evan would stand. An empty seat, a name unspoken, a missing training partner. Everywhere laid bare a reminder of what they no longer had. Who they no longer had. 

Mini finished that mission, Brian and Tyler by his side. Mini saw Brian’s usually bright blue eyes fissure to reveal a darkness underneath, one which reminded him of Delirious, although Mini was sure that Brian would break before he did anything visceral. That was a big difference between Brian and Delirious—Delirious broke into the dark, while the aphotic silence broke Brian. 

The mission was silent too, the variant that revenge wallowed in and surged high above the wall built around each, crashing down over their minds, drowning the mercy until it too died. Suddenly, no move was too cruel, no knife to savage, nor the bullet too quick. But Mini watched all, his mind awake despite the same blood flowing through his veins. 

They came back to the same emptiness, the hollow house with a different shade of fractured dilapidation. Mini settled on the flat roof, feet dangling over the edge. His thoughts chugged along sluggishly, a train with barely enough coal to keep moving. 

The air was chilly, the concrete beneath his fingers colder, yet Mini refused to leave. Instead he let the icy wind redden his skin and dry his invisible tears. 

Out there, under the solitary moonlight and a thousand memories, the city swirled with yellow light, cascading out of windows and cars, the smell of rotten smoke a bloody truth to the people’s return. Mini choose to gaze above the depraved and the decaying voices, struggling to see where his path wandered, where it ceased to breathe in the toxic fumes, and found a trail back to the striking hills and valleys trimmed in trees ancient. 

It had been awhile since Mini had felt the desire to drink, but as he sat there lonely, the urge was omnipresent. To forget, to let go. All so vulnerably human, so  _ weak _ . Mini wanted to be weak, wanted to break alongside Brian and Tyler, but he couldn’t. The words in his mind wouldn’t let him scattered and slide away into the putrescent breeze. 

Mini fought the words Evan had said to him in a moment without Jonathan, fought to forget them into the pressing night. They acted like a dagger in his heart, what was left after every tear. 

_ Bring him home. Bring Jon home for me, please. _

Mini had only nodded, unable to deny his friend his dying wish. Brock asked him later what the man had said, but Mini found himself without the capacity to reveal his next mission, his last promise to the man who gleamed with sweat and an acceptance that burned Jon and him. 

Mini rose to his feet. A car honked out in the distance, and he found the sand in his throat fall away into his lungs. Drink first, then Jon. Maybe Mini could have stopped himself, but the need to be weak was stronger than the consequences. 

Below Mini, Tyler was waiting, a shot glass of whiskey and a bottle of Jameson beside him. Without words, Tyler understood what Craig would need that night. He just wasn’t sure if he had enough.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll ready for something so extra I cringe while reading it... You'll know it when you read it.

The following couple of weeks were spent adjusting to their new normal. Every night Craig would go out to look for clues Delirious would have left behind in his hallucinative, frenzied state. Each morning Tyler would greet him with a coffee and sit in silence with him on the roof. Mini would sleep for a couple hours and then would help out Brock and Marcel if they needed anything. If not, he would help Lui look for clients and choose who would go on said mission. They still needed money and jobs after all.

Mini was too busy to go on jobs unless Calibre decided he absolutely had too, which was rare. They all wanted Jon back, to fill the second gap in their ranks. Luke would go out with him some nights, and Mini let him. The bearded man knew Jon better, understood Delirious better. 

One day, Mini stopped in front of an old, cracked mirror—the only one in the house. Looking into the mirror—it was dangerous. He might find a stranger staring back, a stranger with a history scarred by violence and loss. No, the face in the mirror would be a stranger who knew everything about him, but yet was unable to name the simplest things, the most basic qualities that had long since disappeared behind the facade he donned each day. A mirror was supposed to reveal and reflect, but all Mini saw when he took a chance and glimpsed at his own, was a husk of white bone and red blood barely hovering above the bittersweet chaos swirling inside. Afloat and awash, Mini supposed he was both. Stuck in a maelstrom of thoughts and places and faces, yet the apathy of constant cataclysm sworn bare in the lines of his countenance, the harden glint in his eyes, and the vigilant wariness clinging to his limbs.

He shook his head, and followed the worn trail to his room. 

That day, Tyler met Mini in his room, coffee cup steaming on the oak bedside table. Mindless, Mini shrugged off his shirt and unsnapped the holster around his chest and waist- one for knives, one for a pistol. 

“Craig, can we talk?” 

Mini stopped, the belt dangling from his right hand, quivering. Tyler sounded desperate, his pitch higher and his body hesitant. 

Mini went with it, and started telling Tyler about his night. “I have a lead on Del. There was news of one of our old clients coworkers disappearance three hours ago. He bloodied the office walls and trashed the fucking place. No severed limbs at least were found as of yet. Though I’m sure—”

Tyler interrupted his rambling, “No. I want to talk about us.” 

That gave Mini pause, and he set the belt in his hand down on the oak table, grabbing the warm coffee, taking a burning sip. He let the moment stretch on until he had collected his thoughts.

“What about us?” Mini asked, treading with care, sitting on his bed, leaning against the wall. The cool paint helped chill his sweaty back. 

“You’ve been dancing around our relationship for a long time. I know you feel the same as me.” Tyler made his way to sit beside Mini, keep a half foot between their bodies. Underneath the conviction, doubt hid in Tyler’s voice. “You hide it better now, hiding behind the exhaustion and the castle ramparts you built, but Craig, you still care. Why are you still scared?”

Tyler was right, as usual. Sometimes Mini would wake up in Tyler’s arm and stare at the man, tracing his lips and face with his eyes, and if he was feeling brave, he ghosted his fingertips over them. During their silent mornings, the presence of the man was a comfort, a safety net when everything else was wildly in motion. 

“It doesn’t seem right, to have happiness when so few of us can barely smile. Evan’s dead and Jon is gone and all I can do is watch as they crumble into themselves as I move steadily on, unobstructed. I..” Mini leaned onto Tyler’s shoulder, “I don’t want to risk losing you, I think you’re the only person left who would send me into a Delirious like state, or worse. You mean more to me than anyone else on this team. You keep me sane.”

“You’re too scared of getting attached to me, just for me to die. What about how I feel? Mini, for fucks sake, this isn’t just your decision, it’s mine too.” Tyler rounded on him, trembling with a desire to both punch and kiss Mini. 

And that was the problem. Tyler wanted him back, he wanted the same things Mini did. Yet in the back of his mind, Mini’s dangerous thoughts were unchecked, unfiltered. 

“I need a friend, Tyler. Just a friend.” The lies smoothly left his lips, fanning out into the stale room. 

“For how long?” Tyler’s voice reflected Mini’s emotions, a lie they both knew separated them.

Mini didn’t answer. He didn’t know how. 

****

“Why now? I have a lead on Delirious and it could go cold soon. The closer I get, the better chance I have of saving him from himself. A mission now would only be detrimental.” Mini argued, facing Calibre with crossed arms. 

Lui didn’t budge. “You need to rest from your nightly excursions. Luke can go in your place. He has more of a chance at calming Delirious. I’m putting Nogla and Marcel on guard over you. Tomorrow you, Marcel, Tyler, and Scotty are going out to murder at the client's request.” 

A thin vanilla envelope sat between them, a picture of a young woman, face flushed and eyes open with life and leisure laying across it. Average brown hair, average length, and average height. Mini’s eyes skimmed over the picture, wondering what the woman had done to piss off a politician. 

Lui was his commander and Mini was bound to him and his words. Reigning in his rising ire, he inclined his head to Calibre. 

“Fine,” Mini said, voice lacking the previous heat. He spared the woman a cursory glance before leaving the conference room, breathing steady. 

An arm wrapped around his shoulders as soon as he broke free of the confining walls. Tyler pulled Mini closer, and Mini let him, the comfort of his warmth pushing the remaining annoyance he’d been harboring away. 

“How about we take a trip, just us, and go do something away from this shithole,” Tyler exclaimed after a minute of quiet comfort. 

Mini let a small grin lift the edges of his lips. “I think Calibre wouldn’t like that. He’s having David and Marcel ‘guard over’ me.” 

Tyler snorted, looking down at Mini with a raised brow. “Well let’s go then.” 

They didn’t bothered taking the tattered blue car, instead the sound of shoes hitting the pavement in synchronization echoed off the rundown neighborhood. The air was dry, but warm as the sun rose higher in the azure sky, cloudless and bright. 

Mini didn’t know where they were going and he suspected neither did Tyler. He’d take corners at random, trying to get lost in the suburbs of the city. Houses past, and the closer to the city’s hub, the better they got. Overrun lawns and cracked driveways turned into gleaming windows and new cars. The pavement was smooth and clean, a dirt glossed off-white over the muddy, trashed and fracture concrete from before. 

A few people were about. A kid on a corner, smoking, puffs of the putrid substance floating away. A woman in a suit rushing into her car, off to work for the day. Mini and Tyler blended in, invisible to each as they moved about their lives. 

A few blocks later, Mini slowed, controlling his labored breathing. Tyler followed, his gait dropping to a brisk walk. Around them, the hum of the city chattered, the distant honking horns and bustle of life faintly coming in and out of focus. 

“I think there’s a park a block away. Wanna go?” Tyler asked, his cheeks colored cherry. 

Mini nodded, angling his body away, jogging across the street. 

The park was old, but not rusty. There were rows of swings, a merry go round, and a tiered play set, all painted in bright reds, blues, and yellows. Wooden chips layered the ground as protection from a fall. A basketball court stood across from them, empty. 

“First to the top is a rotten egg,” Tyler declared, indicating to the play structure. 

With a smile, Mini bolted after Tyler, quickly matching the tall man until they hit the edifice, and Mini let his inner money out. 

Taking the stairs three at a time, Tyler choose the ordinary path. Mini had decided as they ran up to it, that he was going to take a different route. The walls of the path were riddled with holes large enough to stick his fingers in. Mini jumped and pulled himself up, leaping over the railing of the second tier, blood pumping. 

He took a half second to assess the distance between the platform he stood on and the one five feet away, containing the access to stairs. Without a spared second, he leaped, easily spanning the gap and hitting the opposite black platform running. 

Eyes alight with competition, Mini jolted forward and took one more jump upwards, heaving himself over the railing with a violent shudder from the structure. 

Just a breath later, Tyler appeared, laughing.  “Looks like I’m a rotten egg.” 

Mini couldn’t hold his grin back and it exploded outward. He rose to his feet, tackling the taller man, pushing him against the railing. Mini took a whiff of Tyler, a smirk plastered across his face. 

“You smell like one too.” 

“Hey!” Tyler protested, but his arms came up around Mini. “You don’t seem to mind,” He said, amusement playing across his face.

Mini chuckled. “Come on, let’s go swing.” 

Tyler looked… he couldn’t describe the bleeding warmth as he looked at the man, whose bright eyes shone and lips were painted darling pink, and so ready to call him more. 

Mini pushed off the railing, this time following the ordained path. They sat down on the swings, eyes upward, gazing thoughtlessly at the distant skyscrapers and breathtaking everblue. The city hum faded away until the only noise between the two men was the creak of metal and shuffle of feet against the wood chips. 

Mini’s elation evaporated as reality came barreling down on him. It crunched as it hit his chest, his lungs contracting, making it hard for him to breath. Images danced across his echoed vision, pummeling his head with invisible fists. The tragedy caught in his throat, an unrelenting pressure enveloping his existence. 

People, faces of those who had died, they weren’t right but neither was eliminating them. A murderer in his own right, and a serial killer by law. Mini choked on the thought, burning his lips on it. 

Evan’s face flashed, but it was Evan as he had been before the sepsis, with glowing eyes and spirited thoughts, head held high, laughing and kissing Jon..

Mini’s lungs were being crushed, the pressure behind his eyes demanding release. Fuck. 

“Craig?” Tyler susurrated, bringing Mini out of his downward spiral.

Mini coughed, the bright, late spring day coming back into focus. “Sorry, just got caught up in my head.” 

Tyler gave him a worrying look. “If you want to talk...I’m here.” 

Mini’s first instinct was to say no and look away. He fought the impulse, his need to express himself more important than the need to crumple up and forget about the world. 

“I—” Mini started, but cut himself off, his gaze dragged away from Tyler’s soft eyes and behind him, where someone was standing. 

Blood dried on his face and a dagger in his hand, Delirious stood watching them. His face was loose, as if he didn’t have full control, but Delirious’s eyes were fixated on them, meeting Mini’s own slack jaw face. 

Tyler noticed Craig’s sudden change and turned to look at what was behind him that had elicited the stunted sentence. When he saw Delirious, his body went rigid and tense, sharp breaths leaving his mouth. 

“Don’t move,” Mini murmured, keeping his eyes locked on the swaying figure. 

Tyler didn’t turn around to speak, his voice low. “Yeah, uh, good idea.” 

Delirious took a step towards them, a faded crazed light still in his body, the movements jerky and uncoordinated. Another step, another slow inhale. Mini dared to dart his eyes over Delirious’s entire body, noticing now a dark patch of fabric on his shoulder, gleaming wetly in the morning light. 

Each step was as dangerous as the last, and after a tense five minutes that passed like syrup does down a bottle, Delirious stood in front of them. His hair was mussed, ragged and uneven, his stance staggered and broken. Mini, now that he was close enough, could understand the spot of gleaming black. 

A hole punctured Delirious shoulder, a bullet wound, made only minutes before. Blood was darkening the fabric, drenching it. No pain showed on Delirious’s face, but a flicker of  _ something _ appeared. 

And then Delirious collapsed, a dead weight hitting the ground with a booming thud. It jolted Mini into action and he nearly tripped as he threw himself out of the rubber swing. 

“Shit,” he gasped, the tiny sting of slivers a mere background thought. “We have to get him back to the house.” 

Mini ripped the fabric, tearing it so he would be able to see the bullet wound. Delirious was warm, sticky with the crimson life. Tyler pulled out a prepaid phone and dialed a number they both knew by heart. 

Mini focused on steaming the blood. He kept one hand over the wound, the heat of the liquid slightly nauseating. This was his friend and he needed to save him. 

_ Bring him home _ . 

_ I will, _ he promised Evan. I will. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't update last week, some personal things got in the way. Late update because I have had to catch up on some missed school work. Hope you enjoy.

 

The ride back was solemn. Mini kept the pressure on the wound while Brock cleaned around it with antiseptic and a sterile cloth. A too-lively tune played over the radio, and Luke shut it off with an unnecessarily hard slam. Mini couldn’t tell whether the ex military man was happy to see Delirious or mad about the whole being shot thing. 

Tyler drove fast and braked hard, uncaring around the corners. Mini was sure he left rubber behind. It meant they got back to the house in less than ten minutes though. Either way, Mini wasn’t complaining. 

Brock said he’d notify Droidd and left with Del, carried by Luke. Everyone else remained behind in varying states of shock and uncertainty. Mini leaned against a wall, letting out a harsh breath. Tyler stayed near, but his gaze was faraway. Marcel, who’d also been in the car, was sitting on the ground, legs crossed, shoulders sagged. 

“Is he going to be okay?” Marcel’s voice was shaking, something Mini didn’t expect from an old assassin. 

“Brock will take care of him. He’ll make sure he lives.” Mini found himself saying, words he wished to be true. 

Brian came bursting out of the blue garage door that led into the house, hair wild as his face. “You found Jon?” 

Tyler answered him with a heavy voice. “Delirious found us.”

Brian frowned. 

“Delirious found us at the park, we were… out and he appeared, bullet wound already there. It didn’t go all the way through thankfully,” Tyler explained. 

“You keep saying Delirious, why?” 

Mini realized that Brian hadn’t ever been told the difference between the two. He heaved a sigh that parted his lips and pushed off the cracked wall with a grunt.

“Let’s chat inside. Tyler, I’ll see you in my room later?” Mini said, grabbing Brian’s shoulder as he passed him. “Come on.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Tyler called out as Mini left. 

Mini gently pushed Brian along, ignoring his questioning look. With a quiet click, Mini shut his door and settled down on the sweat stained mattress he rarely slept on. Brian sat across from him, on a random old wooden chair. 

“So tell me what this is about. What’s with the whole name game?” Brian stared at him with a hesitant expression. Like he was unsure if he wanted to know. 

“Delirious is what results when Jon’s mind can’t handle the situation and he shuts down and out comes Delirious, ready to play. He’s a coping mechanism, a form of therapy for Jonathan. Luke’s never said how Delirious first came about, what triggered the change, but Jon has let me in on a few things himself,” Mini started, his hands often fiddling with the corner of the ratty blanket, or his fingers playing with each other. 

“So two different people, in one body. And one is a psychopathic killer,” Brian summed up, nodding.

“Essentially, yeah,” Mini agreed, “but it’s a little more complicated than that.”

Brian grimaced. “When aren’t things?”

Mini nodded in mute agreement. “It’s not easy to snap him out of it. Delirious doesn’t like giving up control. For Jon, it’s like looking through a window pane, except the outside is his consequence of his body’s actions and inside the glass is his mind. To break out, it takes either a lot of pain, or something emotionally powerful. I don’t know if the pain from the bullet will be enough. Luke did tell me once that Delirious has been shot before and Jon didn’t emerge until three days later.” 

Mini watched Brian carefully, searching for a reaction deeper than the surface mask they all donned day after day. Brian’s eyes lingered on the bottle sitting on his bed stand, but he didn’t bring up Mini’s sleeping habits. For that, Mini was grateful. 

“I’m glad he’s home, even if Jon’s stuck in there, he’s back and that’s what counts.” Brian murmured, half to himself, a reassurance that his consciousness needed. 

Mini remembered his earlier words. A mistake, he’d said, nothing more.  _ Not anymore, my friend,  _ he thought, a small smile lifting his bleak eyes. 

“None of this was your fault,” Mini said in return, an offer with a twist. 

Brian flickered his eyes to meet Mini’s. “Just because Jon is home, doesn’t mean that the shit before is nullified. The what if’s haven’t gone away, they still haunt my head, a waiting nightmare every time I close my eyes.” Brian closed his eyes, swallowing, “Evan stares at me, eyes pleading, and I can’t  _ fucking _ move. I can’t do anything to save him because  _ I _ wasn’t there.” Brian smashed his fist onto the floorboards, chest heaving. “I couldn’t protect him, Craig, I couldn’t keep him safe.” 

Ragged frustration left the man hollow, frayed at the seams. 

“Brian, the what if’s will always be there if you let them. They will be the breath on the back of your neck, the danger lurking around every aphotic corner, the face that will dwell under your eyelids. You can’t let them control your life, because if given the chance you will become what Jon and I have- we learned the hard way. Maybe you want to let them win, but there is no way I am going to watch that happen.” Mini let his own authority grow into his voice, face raw of the masked placid expression that usually called his features home. 

“I remember desperately wanting to feel the pain and suffering I thought I deserved, the endless mistakes I’d made, the problems I’d created. The ultimate longing to be understood, to just want to feel happy, but then I was guilty because I had to remind myself I didn’t deserve happiness. I spiraled down into an abyss without a bottom and I loved the abyss. It was everything I deserved after all. Rotten thought after rotten thought, each telling me what I thought was fact.”

In Brian’s face he found a mirror of his younger self, three and a half years ago. Pity was a punishment, and sympathy a facade. Brian didn’t need either, nor would he take them. 

“Stop beating yourself up. What happened happened and you don’t get to go back, so there’s no point in reliving it every night. Let it all go, laugh and joke and prank because fucking hell, this,” Mini gestured to Brian’s body, “this isn’t you. This a shell, a cracked veneer that must be torn away. Brian, I know it’s been hard on all of us, but we aren’t allowed to give up, we have to keep moving forward. So what if you crawl on your hands and knees? You’re moving. And that’s what counts.”

The faint sound of clapping echoed briefly. It took Mini by surprise. He glanced at the doorway, where Brock was standing. 

“Nice speech.” 

“Thanks?” Mini thought it absurd, the whole situation. 

Brian scrambled to his feet, face flushed, his eyes avoiding Brock’s. Mini was forgotten in an instant, a mere ornament on the bedspread. “How’s Jon?” 

Brock sighed, running a hand through his short hair. “It’s been a long half hour, but he’ll pull through fine. Arlan has me double check everything over the phone. Delirious will be awake in an hour or so. I put him under so that he wouldn’t wake up while I was cleaning or suturing the tear.” 

Mini let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. He relaxed his tense shoulders, letting them drop. “Thank you.” 

Brock glanced over at him, giving a nod of acknowledgement. “I want to speak with you alone. You can come back with me to the medbay.”

“I’m just ever so popular, aren’t I?” Mini joked, a feeble thing without a heartbeat. He turned to Brian. “Take what I said into consideration. If you have any questions about Delirious, you know where to find me.” 

With that, Mini left. Brock led him to the familiar room, where Evan had laid with Jonathan whispering those sweet nothings with doomed fervor. It sombered his mood, stomping on any relief he’d been feeling and crushed it under its boot. 

Delirious was unconscious, his head resting on several carmine pillows. His shoulder was wrapped is pristine bandages, forearm resting across his stomach. Brock had fashioned a sling out of ribbon and a cloth bag. 

The man’s face was relaxed, slack in his dreamless slumber. The tattoos usually hidden by his shirt were exposed, dangling bare. A teddy bear, worn by age and missing an eye was inked over his heart, the dull colors painted elegantly into his skin. The detailing was intricate, the artwork a masterpiece. Another was a simple word- Delirium, each letter curved with ornate edges and ends. 

Mini dragged his eyes from the handsome tattoos, to the man’s well-being. Del’s skin was paler, his breath fluttering out of his chest on light puffs. There was light bruising, faded sage and azure colors along his rib cage and a yellow tinged bruise on his forearm. A tiny scratch ran along the cut of Del’s jaw. 

“Craig, I overheard you talking to Tyler the other day.” 

Mini mentally shrugged. This wasn’t anything worthy of worry, he spent a lot of time speaking with Tyler. Many conversations, ranging from the trivial to the serious. 

“You were explaining why you couldn’t be in a relationship.”

_ Oh. _ That one. Mini ran a hand down the back of his neck, rubbing it. “Yeah.”

“And I so happened to hear your speech to Brian, which was solid might I add, but that’s not what this is about,” Brock paused, letting it sink in. Mini found himself shoving his hands into his pockets, eyes drawn back to Delirious as Brock spoke. Mini saw the man’s arms and neck restrained with leather chains, a terrible precaution Mini hoped wouldn’t have to stay. 

“You said to move forward, to let the past be past—to have fun again, to joke and prank. You told Tyler that you didn’t think you had the right to be happy when everyone else wasn’t, that you were scared he would die. Besides the blatant hypocrisy, don’t you think that the fact your time may be limited might be a reason to let him love you, to be involved? He does, you know. Love you that is. I can see it in his eyes, in his hands as they clench to stop from reaching for you. The way he speaks to you, hell, he can’t get enough of you. When you were gone for your nightly excursions, he’d pace and be distracted constantly. Calibre had to give him a lecture so he’d calm down. Even then, I’d see him glancing at the door, waiting for you to come back. Dude, all you have to do is open your eyes. The man desperately wants you to say yes, but he’s beginning to doubt himself. You can’t continue to force him to wait.”

Mini listened for something to refute, anything. His instinct was to pretend he hadn’t heard, act like the connection wasn’t there. Mini rolled his impulses, tied them in a bag and threw it out. 

“You’re right.” 

“I—What?” Brock clearly hadn’t been expecting compliance. 

“You’re right, I should stop being a fucking idiot and just kiss him,” Mini said, finally meeting Brock’s gaze. 

Understandably, Brock was a bit shocked. “Yeah, I’m right.” He muttered, almost robotic. 

“But,” Mini began, “you have to also tell Brian about your feelings.” 

Mini might be obtuse when it came to his own life, but he could easily see the tension between the two. 

Brock sighed, biting his lip. He crossed his arms, scratching at his forearm. “I know. Brian’s not been ready for it though. I’m not sure he realizes what he’s feeling and I don’t want to push him.”

Mini barked out a laugh. He raised an eyebrow at the man. “You sound like me.” 

Brock considered it. “Yeah, I do, don’t I?” 

“Deal?” Mini asked, walking up to Brock, hand held out as an offering. Brock took his. Both of their hands were sweaty. 

“Deal.”

Mini glanced back at Delirious. “Tell me when he’s awake. I think Luke and I both will want to have words with him. I might have a way to wake up Jonathon if this hasn’t.”

Brock nodded and ushered him out the door. 

Mini had a goal then, and he had run out of ground to flee on. He was standing at the edge of a cliff and the sable clouds were roiling above his head, lashing out at his figure. Mini had to jump, had to take his chances. The fall would kill him or save him. 

Mini took a deep breath, calming his racing heart. Sweat drops rolled down his arm, staining his shirt. He knew his face was redder than usual. Fuck, he was actually going to do this. It felt surreal, abstract, and unfocused. As if he were afloat in an ocean of stories, ranging from the strange to the truly fantastic fantasy worlds. Except this story was about to reach one of it’s climax point and dammit Mini didn’t know what to do with his hands while he headed towards his room. He’d told Tyler to meet him there, and the man was probably waiting. 

The door was open a crack, light pooling out into the dim hallway. Inside, Tyler sat leaning against his bed, legs crossed, eyes closed. He was humming. Mini took the opportunity to stare. 

Tyler’s shirt fit him well, the black sleeves and white chest hugging his well muscled frame. His thin, pink lips were pursed shut as he hummed. His posture, the small tap of his long fingers, the slight sway of his head to the self made music, all of it made Tyler  _ Tyler.  _ And if Mini was honest to himself, he loved all of it, loved the man who had become his best friend. 

For the first time Mini saw a future with Tyler. A life beyond this hellhole they lived in currently. Maybe they’d get a house in a nameless town, wake up to morning coffee and sweet sunshine glaring in through the window. Maybe they’d find an apartment in some huge city, out on the coast and yell at traffic and grin at beach sunsets. 

For the first time, Mini saw someone he could have _a_ _home_ with. And damn if that didn’t scare him. 

Mini cracked open the door. “Hey.”  _ Shit. _ His voice was higher pitched than usual, and Tyler always could tell if some was off. 

“You took your sweet time.” Tyler raised his head, peering up at him. Mini hesitated at the doorway before telling himself he was being silly. This was Tyler and he wasn’t going to bite his head off if he made the wrong move. 

“Brock wanted to speak with me about Delirious,” Mini said, the lie falling off his tongue easily. 

Tyler patted the floor in front of him. A silent invitation. “What’s the news?”

Mini found himself leaning back into Tyler as he got situated on the floor and the bigger man wrapped his arms loosely around Mini, locking his hands over a leg. One finger rubbed his thigh in gentle circles. It was distracting.

“It’s pretty good. Del’s going to be fine. Brock’s got him under to help prevent Delirious from ripping any bandages or sutures. Also helped him clean out the wound and take the bullet out.” Mini left out the tattoos he’d seen. They seemed private and not something to share without permission. 

“Good.” Tyler’s body relaxed a fraction, tension weaving out of his bones. “We needed a win.” 

Mini hummed in agreement. He could feel Tyler’s heartbeat through his shirt, his the sound a safe constant. The calming circles Tyler made worked magic, keeping him grounded to a degree. “He also mentioned something else.”

Deep breath. Another. 

“Yeah?” Tyler noticed Mini’s nerves as Mini started wringing his hands, trying to find something to do with them. 

“He said…” Mini paused, collecting himself, not that his heart was listening. “He said that..” 

“Come on Craig, what’d he say?” Tyler chuckled at Mini inability to form words. 

_ Aw, fuck it.  _

He turned his body to face Tyler directly, those wide baby blues staring at him, flickering down to his lips before coming back up to his eyes. 

“Craig…?” 

Mini took a step forward off his cliff, plunging down. 

He surged upward, cupping Tyler’s face with both hands, pulling him into a sloppy kiss. Fire blazed in his stomach, burning his blood, boiling his nerves. 

Mini moved back. Breathless, he muttered, “He told me you loved me.”

Tyler’s face was flushed and so was Mini’s. And fucking hell those lips had tasted so delicious, so addicting Mini wanted more. He wanted more  _ now. _

Tyler beat him to it, grabbing Mini’s face with his own hands and crushing his lips into Mini’s. It was so much better than Mini had thought it would be— Tyler matched his anger in the way he kissed, fierce and unrelenting. 

He loved it. Mini fucking  _ loved  _ it. 

“Hey Craig, gue-” 

Followed by a short silence and then— 

“Yessssssss!” Brian screamed louder than Mini thought possible. 

Mini broke away from Tyler’s hungry lips and turned to face the intruder. “Dude, what the fuck?” 

“Brock, get your ass over here!” Brian yelled, a broad grin lighting up his face. 

Mini refused to move away from Tyler, simply resting against his chest, ignoring Tyler’s attempts at moving. “No, Tyler. It’s okay.” He murmured to the man. “They know plenty about our… relationship.” 

Mini’s own words backlashed, whipping across his heart, tangled in his throat. They were is a  _ relationship.  _ He had  _ kissed  _ Tyler, the man who had trained him, broke him and rebuilt him from the ashes. Maybe that was dramatic, but Mini didn’t have the capacity to care.

_ “ _ You don’t care? Before you said—” 

“Before,” Mini interrupted. “I was looking for an excuse. I want them to know that you matter to me like the sun matters to the earth, the way the moon shines through the night. I want them to know, Tyler.” 

And fuck, if he didn’t feel so damn complete, so utterly whole right now. Mini smiled warmly at Tyler, grinning something intangible. 

“Dude.” Mini found he couldn’t  _ stop  _ smiling. It was ridiculous and crazy and fucking hell, he loved it. 

Brock came rushing up the stairs, breath heavy. When he’d captured the air back in his lungs, he exclaimed. “Delirious is awake. Come quick.” 

And with that Brock disappeared back down the stairs, Mini hot on his heels before Tyler or Brian had a chance to respond. Mini missed Tyler’s warmth already. Luke met them by the door, hair ruffled, and beard half trimmed. 

Brock paused at the door, turning to them. “It’s not Jon, it’s Delirious. But something seems off, Delirious… well you’ll see.” 

He pushed open the door, revealing the man inside. Luke followed him, eyes trained on Delirious, a stray hand running along the edges of his beard. 

Delirious’s eyes were open, staring into a void Mini couldn’t see. His face was slack, empty of emotion. Around his wrists were bruises and torn, badgered skin. An attempt at escape had been made. 

Luke was unfazed. He walked up to his childhood friend, talking about mundane, ordinary things- the weather, the latest hit on the radio, even about the latest scandal of another politician. Del showed no outward sign he heard a word. 

Mini hadn’t expected much, but he had hoped against hope that for once he’d be wrong. He considered telling Luke about what Evan had said, even the parts he specifically chose to forget, but the idea of it unsettled him. The words were meant for Jon and him, no one else. 

“I’ll give him until tomorrow. If Jon’s not back by then, I’ll have a chat with him. If his condition changes, I want to know about it. Okay?” 

Brock gave him a small nod. “Understood.”

“How is he doing? Besides the whole Delirious thing.” Mini turned back to Del. 

“Well,” Brock began, his words clinical and professional, “he’s dehydrated for starters. Along with that, he’s got the lacerations on his back, the bullet wound in his shoulder, a concussion, and a sprained ankle. I have him pumped full of what drugs I can to help with the pain. Arlan will be coming by after his shift to give me more. I’m worried about his head the most. The concussion’s bad. I’m surprised he’s staying awake this long. His eyes along would be burning with how bright this room is. I’m just thankful there’s no internal bleeding. All of this is fucking with his mind and I don’t know how he’s managing. He’s been to hell and back.” 

Luke glanced over at them. “It’s been a long time since he was this out of it… not since his mom died.” 

“Shit sucks,” Mini summed up eloquently. 

Luke sat back, making a sound of frustration. “I know he told you about somethings that I didn’t agree with being said aloud, so he must trust you. A lot.”

Mini saw Brock take this as a cue to leave, his hand disappearing as he pulled the door shut. He waited to respond until the decrepit door closed with a gentle click. It echoed in the destitute room, the monotonous walls sealing them in a gossamer imbued prison. Gossamer by the twinkle of hope shoved in the corners, under the dirt and between the cracks, but still writhing with vitality.

“We shared a few... unforgettable and unfortunate experiences. I’m sure you’ve heard.” Mini said as he began to wander the small room, eyes roving over the equipment Brock had set up. 

“I’ve heard a few things from Jon, but he is a private man despite appearances. Has his fair share of secrets. I may have known him for-fucking-ever, but Jon likes to keep much an enigma.” 

Luke stopped speaking, thinking about his next words with care. Mini let his wandering feet carry him over to Delirious’s bed side. 

_ Bring him home _ . 

Mini grimaced, rubbing his face, trying to hide the discomfort growing in his chest. 

_ Bring Jon home for me.  _

Mini coughed, heat running down his lungs. 

_ Please.  _

Luke watched as Craig fought some invisible demon. No words would calm a brewing storm, no one but the man who shared his heart could. Luke waited for Craig to gather himself back together, collect the pieces of the puzzle. 

Mini forced the thunder down his throat and massaged his shoulder, kneading the muscle. It was a small comfort amid the chaos running through his head. 

It was enough.  _ For now. _

Luke started to speak after another moment. 

“Jon has a harsh history. His father wasn’t a kind man. Abused him for years, left a variety of scars. His mother was the opposite, an angel in disguise I guess you could say. I knew her long enough before his father killed her in a drunken rage to understand why he loved her. Custody was taken from his father as he was sent to prison after eight long months of court trials. My family took him in, but the nightmares were there for good. Therapy lasted for a time. Didn’t work well on him, but at least he spoke again. 

“I woke each night to his whimpering and his cries. Every night I would hug him and whisper ‘I’m here’. I wanted to say more, but what use would it have been? Anyways, after other shit that sucked as you put it, we left town. Long story short, Evan was a godsend, a miracle. That boy saved Jon from his own mind. I was able to pursue my own desires, the military. Lasted me seven years before I got sick of the bastards up high, and now I’m back and Jon is…”

Luke trailed off, his heavy voice bearing the weight of a life. The heaviest burden to hold. 

Mini’s mind slowed, the stream of brusque thoughts halting. Looking into Luke’s eyes was invasive, a prison door held open for a bare moment. Luke met Mini’s eyes, and for a second Mini saw what lay under the crass outer shield. The hurt, the sorrow, the melancholic addiction, but also the love, the chasm of it soaring above the abyss. Secrets and puzzles glued in places were cracks fizzled through the stone ramparts. 

“Please go. I need to..” Luke broke off, his words raw and unshaped. 

Mini inclined his head and left the two men, the warrior and the ex military. He passed Brock in the kitchen and let him know that Luke needed to be alone with Jon. After, he retreated back to his room, where Tyler waited. 

“Come here.” 

Mini didn’t realize he’d been lingering in the doorway. He fell into Tyler’s waiting arms, curling into his chest. Safe. Mini was safe and warm and  _ wanted _ . 

“Sleep,” Mini murmured. 

Tyler complied, laying down on his back. Mini rested his head over Tyler’s heart, a reassurance. Tyler began to traces circles on Mini’s back, his fingers ghosting over the fabric of Mini’s shirt. The persistent thud of Tyler’s heart and the comfort of his hand was a lullaby, carting Mini off to a dreamless sleep. 

Tyler hummed a soft tune before his arm fell slack around Craig as he too found himself in the throes of sleep. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this chapter, it's one of my favourites. Scotty is a ton of fun to write.

Mini had his coffee in hand, the steaming cup warming his face. Not that he particularly needed warmth in the summer heat. Tyler was still slumbering, his light snoring buzzing away upstairs. Brian sat at the dining table, hair dripping wet and eyes half awake. His coffee was churning in the machine. 

Marcel slunk into the room as the glorious smell of house blend reached his nose. “I smell coffee.”

“You’ll have to wait your turn.” Mini chuckled, sipping his own, burning the tip of his tongue. 

Marcel muttered under his breath as he found a chair by Brian. “Fucking lines.” 

Mini was content to watch as others joined in the queue, Nogla grumbling in time with Marcel, cheering lazily as Brian’s finished. Scotty sauntered into the kitchen, too awake for his own good at bloody six in the morning. 

“Come on Craig, let’s go,” Scotty called, skipping up to him. 

Mini squinted at him. “Go where, exactly?”

Scotty frowned, shrugged, and dragged him out of the room without an answer. The smaller man pulled him down the hallway and into the conference room. 

“I think this is called kidnapping,” Mini informed Scotty as he pushed him into the map covered room. 

Calibre was waiting for them. Mini fixed his bed head with his hands best he could, and reluctantly found a seat. 

“Thanks for joining us Craig,” Lui said, the corner of his lips wavering as he held back a grin. 

Mini pouted. It was too early to be going on a mission without any warning. Not that he was going to tell that to their esteemed leader. 

“After Jon wakes up, you, him, Luke, Ohm, Scotty, and Tyler are going to be going to London.”

_ What?  _

Mini blinked. 

“Today Scotty’s taking you shopping.” Lui didn’t bother hiding the wry grin this time. “You’ll need supplies. Scotty’s got the list of who’s what size and what you’ll need. Be back by noon. I have a small training competition for everyone today at one. You can let everyone know about the trip and the competition.” 

Mini refrained from commenting on the brash decision to send him to London, and settled for a more appropriate response. 

“What the bloody hell did you get us into?” Mini demanded after they had gotten into the bland red truck. 

“I just… recommended that we go somewhere more exotic for a mission. That’s all.” Scotty wiggled his seat belt into place and put the truck in reverse. 

They pulled out into the daylight, the early sun rays gentle. Heat rolled off the pavement, shimmering down the street. Mini slid down the window, letting the heavy air blow the sweat from his brow. Scotty fiddled with the radio until AC/DC came on. Mini let the grin free. 

Good music, wind, and an old friend, who was a blithering idiot. And he had a boyfriend. Life wasn’t  _ horrible _ . Never mind the chaos of Delirious, or the story Luke had told, or Evan’s crushing death. 

Damn, they couldn’t catch a break could they. That’s what this mission was going to be, hopefully. A breather from the maelstrom of whirling defeats. Mini refused to let the intrusive thoughts melt his good mood. 

“What’s our mission?” Mini had forgotten to ask Calibre. 

Scotty ignored his question and pointed to a white folded paper flapping about on the centerpiece. “What’s the list say we’ll need?” 

Mini grabbed the sheet, rolling up his window, preventing it from flying out. He unfolded it, reading, “Rain gear, heavy duty boots, rope…” he went on for a full minute. 

Scotty scrunched his face into a twisted mess. “Yuck. That’s going to take forever.” His face lit up and Mini groaned. “I have an idea.”

Scotty smirked. 

Mini held back a second groan. 

“Why don’t we have a little fun while we shop?” 

“Why,” Mini grimaced, “do I have the funny feeling that by ‘fun’ you mean wreck utter havoc?” 

“Who, me? Nah, I know better than that!” Scotty exclaimed, glancing at him. 

Mini stared pointedly at him. “You trashed that pizza joint five years ago. You burned down the shed we rented, you—”

“That’s not the point,” Scotty interrupted Mini’s everlasting lost of examples. 

They came to a red light and Scotty sighed as he hit the brakes. Mini jolted forward as the man beside him used far too much force than was necessary. Mini didn’t bother reprimanding him, tapping his fingers against the car door. 

“As long as nothing get destroyed, I’m not humiliated, and I don’t have to bail you out of jail—”

“That was one time!”

“—then you can go ahead with your idiotic plan.” Mini finished, eyeing the blonde with resignation. 

Scotty cheered, his grin wider than Mini thought possible. He shook his head at the childishness. Somehow Scott had never lost that boyish charm despite the shit they’d gone through together. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. 

Mini turned his attention back to the road. The rest of the ride was spent debating over whether they should buy Tyler a heart shaped chocolate basket. Mini very reasonably thought it was a bad decision, while Scotty insisted that Tyler would treasure it. 

Upon arrival, Mini warned Scotty once more that if they ended up in jail, he was going to revoke his sugar privileges. Then, after Scotty scampered off to do whatever the hell he’d been planning, Mini set off to gather their gear. 

Two hours and five bottles of water later, Mini was exhausted. Who knew shopping could be so fucking tiring? If he had to argue with one more old lady about the last item on the shelf he was going to storm out of this place. And he still didn’t have the pocket knife Calibre wanted. 

_ Clip, clop.  _

Mini perked up at the sound of hooves on laminate flooring, head swiveling towards the odd sound. A beautiful roan mare came into view, heading straight towards him. It weaves through the aisles with gentle ease, with a perfect English gait. Fear grew in his heart as he recognized the rider of said mare. 

Mini dropped the ten bags he was carrying and put his face in his hands, holding back a long groan. Instead he sighed, and prepared to yell at the doltish man atop the horse.

“Scotty?” 

“Craig, I have found the perfect way to transport all your bags to the truck! Isn’t it ingenious?” Scotty waved from the height, nearly bumping into a rack of men’s plaid shirts. 

Mini let out that groan.  “Where did you get the horse?” 

“Oh. Well I saw a man outside giving kids a short ride and since I figured you wouldn’t want to have to carry all those bags out on your own, then I thought that a horse could do it easily. So I persuaded—”

“Bribed.”

Scotty continued without missing a beat. “—the man to lend me his horse for a bit. Her name is Dusky Rose, but I call her Rose for short. She’s beautiful and very gentle. Would you mind loading her up? I only have an hour with her and it took a while to find you.” 

Mini shook his head, defeated. “Your inane ability for the moronic astounds me to this day.” 

“Oh pish posh. Come on then, let’s get out with it,” Scotty declared, brandishing a coat hanger like a sword, crying, “They may take our lives but they will never take our freedom!”

Mini sagged against another rack, face flooded with embarrassment. 

_ Damn you Scotty. _

Once the horse had been sorted out and returned to its proper owner, the mall security reassured that they were leaving, Mini dragged Scotty out of the large complex by his ear. He ignored the strange looks he received as they passed. Mini supposed they were an oddity. An obviously younger fellow pulling the other by the ear as said troublemaker yelped constantly and griped about how unfair this treatment was. 

Mini didn’t let go until they’d arrived at the truck. He grabbed the keys from his pocket, releasing the whining bitch. Scotty straightened up, rubbing his yanked earlobe. Mini lugged all their purchases into the backseat, slamming the back door closed. 

When Mini turned around to haul Scotty into the car, the man was gone. Mini screamed internally, wanting to pull his hair out. Why couldn’t Scotty do as he was told? He hadn’t even heard the idiot scamper off. 

A loud sound of crunching metal echoed in the parking ramp.  _ Please _ , he begged,  _ please don’t be Scotty.  _

“Hey Craig, check this out!”

Mini groaned, and banged his head against the side of the truck.  

****

“I really don’t see what was wrong-”

Mini cut Scotty off. “You hijacked a bulldozer, ran over four cars, and didn’t even apologize or return the damn thing.” 

“Scotty did  _ what? _ ” Brian barged into their conversation, entering the kitchen, opening a cupboard. He rustled a few things around before bringing out a coffee cup. 

“Isn’t it a little late for coffee?” Mini asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Never,” Brian shook his head, “is it too late for coffee.”

“I borrowed a horse before that too and rode it around the mall. You should have seen Craig’s face, it was hilarious,” Scotty told Brian proudly, a cheeky grin plastered to his face.

The coffee machine buzzed, preparing itself for the creation of the holy liquid. Mini slid off his seat, intending to go find Luke. Mini had yet to tell him of the upcoming trip. 

Mini turned at the doorway, interrupting Scotty’s detailed explanation of their mall escapade that Brian was listening to with rapt attention. “Calibre told us we are doing a training exercise at noon by the way.”

Duty accomplished, Mini went to find Luke. He took a gamble and headed to the med bay. Sure enough, Luke was passed out, slumped over Delirious’s body. Mini shook him awake with one hand. 

“I have a few things to tell you,” Mini informed the groggy man.

Luke groaned, rubbing his eyes, messing with his hair. “Yeah?” 

“Calibre is sending you, me, Jonathan, Tyler, Ohm, and Scotty to London once Jon wakes up," Mini said flatly, not bothering to go into any detail. Not that he actually  _ knew _ what they were doing in London.

“You said a few. What else?” Luke stretched, his back cracking. 

Mini glanced at Del. “We have a training exercise at noon today. About thirty minutes from now.” 

“Why do you smell like horse?” 

“Scotty.” 

Luke have him a bewildered look, muttering under his breath. Mini couldn’t catch what was said, but the sound was rough, cutting through the air. He gave Luke a quick goodbye and went to find Tyler. 

Calibre found him before he found Tyler. “We’re moving up the schedule. You depart this evening whether Jon has woken up or not. Go pack, I’ve just told the others. Your plane leaves at eight tonight. Also Tyler is staying here. I hope that’s not a problem.”

_What?_ _No Tyler?_

“Of course not,” Mini lied, his heart dropping. “How long is this trip?”

Calibre stared at him with an unreadable expression, arms crossed. “Hopefully you’re done in a month. But it could last longer.” 

Mini took a breath, sorting out this new information. No Tyler, he’d need over a months supply of pills, and whatever cologne that he used. It helped him sleep. The extra clothes Scotty and him had bought were useless to anyone but the giant, so they’d still give Tyler those. 

“Will you be okay? I know you’re sleeping arrangements have been… warmer of late,” Calibre continued staring, eyes flat.

Mini gathered himself up. He was a grown man for fucks sake. He could last a month without Tyler. Nodding to himself, he said, “I’ll be fine. Can you get a shipment of my pills here ASAP?” 

“I’ll have Scotty run to get them. He’s good at getting things like that quickly.” 

Mini thought back to the mall incident. “Right. Well, I’m going to go pack.” 

Calibre nodded and went to do mysterious Calibre things, most of which Mini would never know. He collected his thoughts and went to go pack. He’d need seven shirts, seven pairs of jeans…

It was six thirty two when Mini zipped up his suitcase, clothes strewn across his room as he’d eliminated what he didn’t need. He had his toothbrush, hair gel, shampoo, and conditioner. It struck Mini that he didn’t know where they were staying. 

“You look frazzled.”

Mini turned to glare at the intruder. “I have been forced to clean up horse shit, manhandled a bulldozer Scotty hijacked, and now I find out you’re not going on the trip.” 

Tyler pulled him into a light kiss, running his hands in soothing circles on his shoulders before pulling away. “Relax, you’ll be back before you know it.” 

Mini leaned into Tyler’s tall frame. “I’m still going to miss you.” 

Tyler hummed in agreement, warm breath ruffling Mini’s hair. “I’m driving you to the airport. We should get going though. Don’t want you to miss the flight.”

“It wouldn’t be the worst thing,” Mini grumbled, going to grab the handle of his suitcase. It thudded as it hit the ground, the wheels squeaking. 

“Bloody thing is old as my dead grandmother.” Mini mumbled, jerking it upright. 

“Craig.” 

Mini glanced up at Tyler. 

“Jon woke up ten minutes ago.”

Mini stopped, eyes wide and mouth agape. “Why didn’t you say that before? I need to go see him, I need to tell him...tell him…”

_ Evan _ . 

Mini cursed himself for faltering. Tyler grabbed him and pulled Mini into a bear hug, arms tight. Mini held onto Tyler, grasping the man’s shirt between his clenched fists. 

“Okay?”

Mini took a moment, filing away the hurt for another day. “Okay.” 

They separated, Mini taking ahold of the suitcase, following Tyler down the stairs to the living room. There was a crowd of people in the room, all circled around the corner couch. It didn’t take a genius to understand why. 

Mini dropped the suitcase handle, pushing past Nogla and Marcel. He ignored the muttered curse from Nogla, eyes intent on the figure in the middle. 

Jon looked terrible. Dark bags hung under his eyes, his skin pallid, eyes tinged a watery yellow, but above all, Mini saw past the terrible facets and into the heart of Jon’s fear. The loss of utter control, the blood he’d remember, dripping from his fingers like paint on canvas. The crack of a rib cage, shattering beneath his hands, tearing, ripping. The sounds of strangled, warbled, wet screams and snapping muscles, springing apart. The terrified eyes staring at him in complete horror and revulsion. 

“Stop crowding him,” Mini snapped at the surrounding group. “You’re making it worse. He just woke up for fuck's sake. Give him a damn minute.”

Luke shot him a thankful glance. Mini nodded, watching as the gang scattered away in slow motion, their worried eyes well meaning, but desperately unneeded. Tyler gave him a gesture, telling him he’d go get the car packed. He faced the couch again.

Jon was staring without seeing, his eyes trained on Mini, but his mind was viewing a far different present. Luke had an arm around his shoulders, a way to ground himself against the memories. 

_ Bring him home _ .

It was time for Mini to listen, time for him to follow through with his orders. He took a shaky seat next to Jon, glance flickering between Luke and Jon for a moment. 

Words wanted to spill from Mini’s lips, but he wasn’t sure how they would form, what shape they would take. How could he explain the emotion and dying words without stumbling?

“Jon?” 

The sickly eyes turned to focus, finally seeing him. “Craig.” 

Relief was palpable.  _ At least he’s conscious of his surroundings.  _ But Jon was no closer to being his old self.

Mini fidgeted, twisting his fingers together and apart. “Will you be okay?” 

Jon stopped his faint shaking, “I killed people. Delirious got his revenge. I got… the emptiness that follows. Delirious got the blood and I the memories.” 

Mini waited, silent.

“In time, I will be. But you know how it goes.” Jon sighed, and Mini could see him turn a lock and bury the key. 

“Yeah.” Mini’s mind flooded with the struggle to forget, the blood on his hands, the carnage in their eyes. “I do.” 

“I don’t remember what happened after Evan...” Jon took a shattered breath, “after Evan died. What was done with his body?” 

There had been fire and ash, dark skies and lightning. But no rain. No tears. 

“We cremated him. But we thought it was best if you buried the remains, so we still have them. It’s your right.” Mini swallowed hard. Lungs burned from stone words, a gift of the darkness.

Jon nodded, taking the information. “I remember him whispering something to you. What was it?” 

Mini’s skin tingled, his eyes darting to Luke’s brown ones. “He made me promise him something.” 

“Which was?” Jon’s voice trembled, but it was barely noticeable. Only Mini’s years of getting to know each members own ticks yielded the knowledge. 

He hesitated, meeting Jon’s endless ocean eyes. “He made me promise to bring you home. He made me promise to stay by your side when you did, to be there for you. And he wanted you to know that…” Mini paused, biting his lip. Jon looked at him expectantly. 

“Evan told me to give you this.” Mini pulled out a small velvet box, gently setting it in Jon’s hand, those pale fingers curling over the blue velvet. 

Mini didn’t dare speak, for if he did he feared Jon would break apart into a thousand sharp shards. Luke’s eyes widened as he saw the box, the casual arm around Jon’s shoulders tightening. 

Jon held his breath as he opened the tiny velvet box, the color a dark azure. Nestled inside, was a ring. A teardrop sapphire was cradled in the silver, elegant and simple. A folded paper fell from the box, fluttering onto Jon’s lap. It rustled, whispering in Evan’s surprisingly neat script. 

_ I love you, you blue bastard.  _

It was so Evan it hurt. A tear crawled down Jon’s breaking face, landing with a wet thud on the paper. It blurred across Jon’s eyes, and before Mini could react Jon was flooding, his river boiling over in fragment breaths and ruined tears. 

Between those fragmented gasps, the hollow sound sore to Mini’s ears, Jon managed to slip the beautiful ring over the appropriate finger. It fit perfectly. 

Luke pulled his friend into his chest, thumb working circles against his shoulder. The gesture was not unlike the one Tyler had done with him when he had cried with a hollow heart. The sight wrenched against Mini’s heart, the force of loss renewing in him as he saw Jon crumble, the complete image of heartbreak making his throat burn and eyes saturate. 

“He said he loved you Jon. Evan told me he loved you,” Mini whispered hoarsely. 

The sobbing man broken again, faster, more desperate, soft daggers burying inside his chest. 

Mini rose to his feet, following the automatic path to the garage, where the truck was running, the back full of luggage. Luke had packed Jon’s things for him. 

Tyler’s smile dropped as he caught sight of Mini’s face. “What’s wrong?”

It took Tyler about two seconds to reach Mini and pull him into a hug. Mini took in Tyler’s scent, the musky cologne, the sweetness on the back of his tongue. 

“I gave the ring to Jon. His face… Tyler I think we need to book a different flight. Jon needs to bury Evan’s ashes before we go. We can catch a flight tomorrow.” Mini mumbled into Tyler’s warm chest. 

The giant pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll tell Calibre.”

“Thank you.” Mini smiled despite the pain, his stomach tingling at Tyler’s words.

They stood there, hearts in sync, Tyler’s mind on the man huddled against him, and Mini’s on the man whose almost husband had died. Two different matters, two different people, but both out of place in the world that used blood as glue. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter today; hope you enjoy :)

Mini stared out at the rolling green, the vast ocean beyond the hills. He was wedged between Jon and the plane window, the low cost seats tiny and containing almost no foot room. The journey had been a blur of half-assed jokes and sullen faces, violent silences and hazy eyes. Tyler was seated behind Mini, the rest of the gang scattered about the 747. Their mission today was, for once, bloodless. 

They were going to release Evan’s ashes into the Pacific. 

Mini found the famous pier crowded and dirty, but it was special in a million different minds. To Jon, this was where he first saw Evan. A whole different life, an entirely different story. 

Santa Monica Pier buzzed with activity. The sky was a brilliant cerulean, the fluffy white clouds racing above them. All around, vendors sold bits and bobbles, the smell of hot dogs and burgers roasting filled Mini’s nose. Underfoot, the wood creaked and groaned, worn solid by the treacherous weather. The giant Ferris wheel moved slow against the ocean backdrop, seats full of couples and families. 

They probably looked strange to an outside eye looking in. Gloom clung to them, faces dark and dismal in the bright sun. Mini caught a stranger’s eye accidentally. They stared at each other, the stranger in a old weatherman’s jacket, ice cream cone in his hand. There was a melancholy that clung to the old man, a hardship behind his worn eyes. 

Mini was jostled, his eyes torn away, catching sight of a gaggle of young boys, twelve at most, rushing past them towards the hot dog stand. A faint smile dragged his lips up, but it vanished as the sunlight was hidden. 

It reminded him that today shouldn’t be careless and beautiful. It should have been raining and thundering, lightning should have been crackling across the sky in burst of malevolent rage. The everblue should be grey and dreary, the sun darkened by black roiling clouds. Today was not a happy day, or a joyful one. 

Today they said goodbye to Evan. 

Jon was in the middle of their tight knit group, his face blocked from any outsiders. His face was stoic, his eyes hardened. But his eyes were hardened to stop the tears, his heart barred to ban the pain. 

Mini reached to end first, photographers and mothers alike, scanning the distant horizon with cameras. The beauty of the inescapable ocean encompassing and tragic. Seagulls with their harsh cries, children who screamed, fathers yelling at their kids to get away from the edge-- it all became blurred and hazy. 

A north wind blew, running over Mini’s skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps. Mini saw the waves crash, white foam spraying in all directions. He felt the ocean, it’s demanding presence, the way it dominated his vision and called his name. 

Jon brought out the glass box, the ashes of hope inside. He had wanted no words, because what were words worth when they failed at their purpose? What could possible communicate the curse he bore on his shoulders, the ache in his stomach, the needles in his skin? The words that had so readily brought unshakable laughter and brilliant smiles had also brought unspeakable misery. So in the end, words Jon and Evan had never gotten to share sunk down into the roiling sea, drowning under the weight of a million possibilities that never were, only the one truth that was. As the ashes mixed with the white and grey ocean, slivers of cold lightning glittered in his mind, silver forked skies scattered in monotonous anguish. 

When that light goes out, when the lighthouse has broken down, when the ships crash into the jagged shores, what remains behind? If his reason for living, for being able to sleep at night has been wrenched out of his life, what strength can bring him back? What strength remains in the broken and the burdened, but the weakness of failed hope? 

Mini cast his gaze out into the infinite sky, into the abyss hovering above his head.

           Metal strewn across the ocean floor, bones buried under the sand, lives hidden in the beast’s grasp. A bare finger, a mangled heart, bruised lungs…. The wreckage of an old sword, a beaten gun. 

  
  


Nothing

But 

Exhaustion.

 

_ Of Life.  _


	19. chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im too tired to edit this and i nearly forgot to post, but here it is

 

The dusk was colder, the air chilled and lethargic in its slow circulation of the plane. The vibrant patterns of gold and violent were hidden away by a thick layer of grey clouds, a blanket of misery. As the plane rose higher, Mini’s thoughts became stagnant. 

When the 747 broke through the monotonous cover, out of the darkness, the stars appeared. Distant pinpoint luminescence light years away, burning for billions of years. The sun stole much from view, too radiant across the jaded navy atmosphere, seamlessly blending into the atramentous space. 

Tyler’s coughing fit turned Mini’s attention to the giant next to him. Mini waited until the fit had given him a moment’s rest before expecting an answer. Mini didn’t have to ask, the question was in his eyes, the way he leaned forward. 

Tyler gave him a nod. “Stupid cold has been fucking with my head since yesterday. I feel like a bloated fish.”

“You take ibuprofen?”

“Yes,  _ Mother. _ ” Tyler gave Mini a cheeky grin. “And I even tucked myself into bed too!”

Mini eyed him reproachfully. “No,” he corrected, “I pulled the covers over you. I distinctly remember you falling asleep on the couch. I wasn’t going to wake your bitch ass up, so I made sure that you wouldn’t get cold in the night.” 

Tyler rolled his eyes. “You’re becoming Brock, I swear. Please don’t start wearing those hideous rainbow tanks.”

Mini shivered, agreeing with his boyfriend. “They are pretty bad.”

“I resemble that.” Brock poked his head through the gap between the seats. 

Tyler’s face scrunched up, his blue eyes scrutinizing Brock. Mini swallowed a laugh, swatting at Brock’s face instead. 

“Go back from whence you came, foul beast!” Mini cried, holding back a phantom grin. 

Brock gave Mini the middle finger after pulling his head back, which Mini proceeded to lick. Brock gave a small shriek, Mini let himself laughed, and Tyler shook his head wearily. 

“Why?” Brock whispered, his voice betrayed, “Why would you do such a thing?”

Mini opened his mouth to reply, but Tyler spoke first. “Craig, leave the poor man alone. We just roasted his fashion preferences, we don’t need to give him PTSD.” 

“I  _ happen _ to like my fashion choices.” Brock retorted from behind them. 

“No one likes your fashion choice. Not even Brian.” Mini informed the frowning man, having turned in his seat to face Brock. 

“Brian, is this true?” Brock peered over at his almost boyfriend.

Brian glared at Mini, mouthing ‘ _ fuck off’ _ , before offering Brock a half smile. “It’s um, nice?”

Brock’s frown deepened. “You don’t like it.”

“Well,” Brian scratched his head, running his hand through his hair, “the thing is, you’re choices of apparel tend to be... exclusive to you.” 

Tyler started coughing again, harsh and ragged breaths between the hacking. 

“Shit dude, you sound kinda sick.” Brian exclaimed, leaning away from Tyler as if that would make a difference. 

Between coughs, Tyler formulated a glare. “Of fucking course I do, you blithering…” Cough. “...Blithering bitch. I,” Insert another cough, “I am.” 

“Don’t die.” 

Tyler scowled. “Thanks for the sentiment Craig. You’re such a loving boyfriend.”

Mini offered him an empty cup. “I know. Water?”

Tyler sighed, grabbing his earbuds and plugging into his music. Mini let his back fall against the seat, leaning back as silence fell over them. 

Mini’s gaze flickered back to the window, the serene scape below. Now the hues of sunset colored the clouds, but the people below could not see the shimmering, splitting colors. The clouds turned to rose and mauve satin sheets draped over the lush earth. Stunning simplicity.

Silence bespoke the airplanes night crept on, many sleeping, others eyes glued to their movies or phones. Tyler snored next to Mini, his breath fragmented, broken into phlegm wracked puffs. The two dorks behind them were passed out on each other, completely out of it. 

Jon was awake, his eyes digging into the dark outer world. Mini watched him, the two men the only awake in their posse. A grim smile found its place, the rancid thought of  _ why _ they were awake poison on Mini’s skin. 

Jon must have felt Mini’s gaze because he turned directly towards him. Mini rose to his feet, bending over so he didn’t bonk his head on the overhead compartments, and slid past Tyler and Marcel. He motioned to the other man to come with him. Jon complied, moving slow to not wake Luke or Calibre. 

Mini led Jon to the plane’s tiny bar, the dude behind the bar giving them a blank stares. Mini waved the man away, telling him to go take a break. The bartender huffed, but walked towards the front of the plane. 

“I could have used a drink.” Jon muttered, his words heavy and low. 

Mini shook his head. “A drink is the last thing that’d be good for you. You need time, not alcohol.”

“I’m in charge of what’s good for me.” Jon protested weakly. He set an elbow down on the counter and rested his chin on his palm. 

Mini rubbed his eyes. “How are doing? For real, don’t pull that bs ‘I’m fine’ shit on me. I know you’re not okay.”

Jon held up his other hand. It shook, trembling with uncontrollable fervor. “I can’t stop it, I’ve been quivering like a kid on his first date and I  _ can’t stop. _ ” 

The strength of pain in Jon’s eyes slithered down his throat, burying itself in Mini’s lungs. He had to take a deep breath to calm the beat of his heart as it started to heave. 

“I’ve known plenty of pain before, I’ve been hurt in a hundred ways, and then I became numb and Delirious manifested that hurt when I couldn’t. But I’m not Delirious right now and it fucking hurts. Why?” Jon looked directly at Mini, whispering. “Why won’t it stop hurting?”

Mini understood. He’d been in love once. Lucy didn’t die, but the pain he’d survived then rivaled the agony in Jon’s face. 

Mini stared back, torn between trying to help, and being honest. But Mini knew Jon wouldn’t want to feel better, he sure hadn’t all those years ago. He looked down, heavy.

“It never stops Jon, it never stops aching.” 

 

At the next airport, the group split up. Mini, Jon, Luke, Scotty would head to their next flight, while the others would drive back home. Ohm would meet them at their gate and from there, London they would fly. 

Mini pulled Tyler into a hug. “See you soon, right?” 

Tyler kissed the top of his head, returning the hug. “You better believe it. Don’t get hurt or I’ll fly all the way there and murder the fool. Got it?”

Mini nodded, his face buried in Tyler’s jacket. It smelled like home, like Tyler. “Understood.”

And Mini knew he would, because it was Tyler and Tyler loved him. It still felt weird to know it was true. 

“I love you.” 

Tyler yanked him into a deep kiss that stole Mini’s breath. He tasted so good, so  _ right _ . Mini turned away, eyes finding Luke holding Jon in a brotherly embrace. 

Guilt flooded Mini’s lungs. “ _ Fuck. _ ” 

Tyler followed Mini’s gaze, expression hardening. “Do you think he’ll be okay?”

Mini sighed, a shudder running down his body. “No, I don’t think he’ll ever be okay.”

“How do you know?”

Mini forgot he’d never told Tyler about Lucy. “That’s another depressing story for another depressing time.”

Tyler scrunched his eyebrows, pursing his lips. “Fine.”

Scotty popped up beside them. “So, you two done smooching? Our flight is in like fifteen minutes so ya know, if you need to kiss one more time, do it in a timely fashion. I’ll go stand over there, “ Scotty pointed, scrambling away from Tyler’s glare, “and wait.”

Mini rolled his eyes, shifting his gaze from Scotty’s retreating form to Tyler’s baby blues. “Goodbye Tyler.”

Tyler shook his head. “Don’t say goodbye, goodbye is too final. Never say goodbye.”

“Okay.” Mini cupped Tyler’s face with one hand, rubbing Tyler’s short beard with his thumb. “See you then. How about that?” 

“See you then.” Tyler echoed, leaning down for a quick, chaste kiss. It ended before it had begun. 

Mini fell away from Tyler, drawing his eyes away. He had a bad feeling something terrible was going to happen on this trip, it gnawed at his gut and wormed its way under his heart. 

But Mini walked away anyways, side by side with Scotty, the cold tile gleaming dull, yet harsh against his eyes. 

The Chicago airport was full of colors, the rusty red of McDonalds, a sunset silk orange from a pizza place, the modern white and dark golden brown of a shoppe. The ceramic cream tiles had probably once been white, but no matter the chemicals used to clean it, dirt clung to every corner, every cranny. 

Tile turned to a dreary grey carpet as they reached their far gate, the constant hum despite the late hour reassuring. Ohm waved at them from his seat, the gate partially packed. There was an older woman snoozing, her head resting on the gentleman’s next to her. Nearby, a young boy rocked his head to an unheard beat, fingers and eyes occupied on an old gameboy. Ohm had his legs across a row of seats, earbuds in one ear. He looked ordinary in a beaten sweater pullover and dark jeans. 

Mini caught Luke staring a bit too long at Ohm and grinned, slapping Luke’s back. “Like the view?” 

Luke coughed, giving him a dirty look. “Fuck off.”

Mini chortled, and found a spot for himself. He followed suit of most of the people here and plugged in, the comforting sound of Rap God playing through his earbuds. Mini closed his eyes, letting the music wash over his jumbled thoughts. 

Luke tapped his shoulder a while later, bringing Mini out of his music daze. Luke jerked his head towards the check in desk before leaving him to walk with Jon. Mini collected his scarce items and followed behind them. 

Mini was stuck in the middle seat, Scotty to his left and Ohm to his right. Mini didn’t know much about the man, only that Calibre knew him and that he lead another group. 

The flight attendant was a perky woman with too much false joy and a too wide smile. Her hair was pinned back into a severe bun, and her name tag said  _ Sharon.  _ She gave them the usual speech about safety and the emergency exits. 

Mini ignored it, he’d heard the same speech dozens of times. 

Scotty pulled out his old, dented laptop and started playing some fantasy game. Mini turned to the enigma on his other side. 

Mini started with an easy question. “Why the name Ohm?”

Ohm raised an eyebrow. “Hello to you too.”

Mini shrugged, ignoring his usual protocol. “Skip the unnecessary cursory pleasantries. My name’s Mini and yours is Ohm. Settled and done. So, why that name?”

Ohm ran a hand through his short hair, mussing it up. “It’s an ending. I like endings.” 

Mini knew there was probably more to the story, but it satisfied him. “Ever been to London?”

“A few times for business trips.” Ohm scratched his nose and then ordered wine from the snack lady as she strolled by. 

Mini left Ohm alone for the remaining long hours of the trip, sensing any conversation to be unwanted. He let his mind relax, settling fully into the worn and cracked seat. Mini let his eyes close, leaving his conscience to be swept away by the throes of sleep. 

Mini dreamed of many incoherent things, images flashing and faces unfamiliar in his state of mind scintillating across his dream self’s eyes. 

He woke to Scotty shaking his shoulder, the plane bumping against the runway, slowing to a near halt. 

“Dude, planes landed.” 

Mini stared groggily at Scotty. “You woke me up for that? We have at least another fifteen minutes before we actually get up.”

“I figured you might like to know that you’ve received about fifteen texts and three missed calls since we landed.” 

Mini frowned at Scotty, who was twirling a black phone Mini had never seen in his life with one hand. “Since when do I have a phone? And who is trying to get in touch?”

Scotty shrugged, grinning. “Since I bought you one and gave Tyler the number.” 

“ _ Scotty! _ ” Mini snatched the phone from him, the blue notification blinking up at him. 

True to Scotty’s words, Mini opened the phone to find the spam of calls and texts. Impatient bastard. Mini still couldn’t stop the fuzzy warmth in his stomach though, and he smiled softly down at the phone. 

“By the way, we’re meeting a gang of kids when we get off. By kids I mean fully armed adults who are damn good at their job but are also dorks.”

One.

Two.

Thr-- _ deep breath Mini.  _ He swore Scotty was going to give him an aneurysm one of these days.  

“You are one righteous bastard.” 

Scotty grinned, that stupid mischievous twinkle in his eyes making Mini want to hit the arrogant fuck. 

Breathe Mini. 

“I know.”

Mini smacked Scotty, leaving the man’s cheek smarting. He huffed, plugging in his earbuds to drown Scotty’s whining out. 

Who were the men Scotty had mentioned? Why had he acted so casual about these obviously dangerous men? 

Mini soon found out. As soon at the team made it out of customs, which ended up taking them over a whole damn hour, Mini was confronted with another team of…

Idiots. 

It was the only way he could classify what he was watching. There were nine idiots, all doing various idiotic things. There was a boy, way too young to possibly be a part of this… gang. He had milky white hair, and glasses’ whose frames had one red lense and one blue. The boy was shoving his face with a burger while running away from a sandy haired fellow whose voice, as he was screaming incoherently about ‘fucking’, held dreamy qualities. 

Another, who had a stocky build and was well muscled, was currently struggling to reach his phone, which was held by another sandy haired man. Mini shook his head at the scene. This was going to be a long trip. 

Ohm watched the strangers, eyebrows higher than Mini’s mother had been on her marriage anniversary. What in all the 420 blaze its name was going on?

A dark skinned man appeared out of the fray, striding toward them. He introduced himself as Jay, and began to point out each member of his ragtag group. 

“The one with gaming issues is Jericho.” Indeed, the man was screaming at his laptop, headphones on to block out any sound. Jericho was intensely focused. Mini wasn’t sure if he ever blinked. 

“And then there’s Sparklez, he’s the short one next to Syndicate, who has stole his phone again.” Mini watched as Sparklez started tackling Syndicate, his mass and muscle too much for the skinner man to take. They went barrelling to the ground. 

Jay continued on, barely paying any attention to his team’s antics. “Smii7y is the kid with brown hair and strange glasses, Kyroz has white hair and they’re basically attached at the hip. Fitz is chasing Smii7y for some probably petty reason..”

Mini absorbed all the information, stamping it into his memory. After Jay stopped introducing everyone, Mini spoke up. “Incredibly professional, they are.”

Jay gave Mini a grin. “You haven’t taken your eyes of anyone. You’ve already checked for the quickest exits. You’re still wary of them despite their behavior.”

So the man was right. Mini had done all of that and more. But Scotty had said they were all armed, so Mini thought it was a perfectly valid response.  “My friends can be idiots too, but I wouldn’t want to face them in a real fight.” 

Jay regarded him with knowing brown eyes. Jay shifted his gaze over to the rest of the assembled group. Mini caught Jay staring at Jon, those brown’s lingering on Jon for much longer. Jay’s face was schooled into detachment, but there was a flicker of unrestrained emotion rippling across his face. 

Mini refrained from saying anything about the matter, tucking away the information for later. Behind him, Ohm spoke up, stepping forward to take over the situation. Even though Ohm wasn’t his leader, Mini let the perceptive man assume command. 

Mini shrunk back a few paces, nearly bumping into one of the crew from the London team. The youth, Smii7y if Mini remembered right, was giving him top down look, his crazy eyes taking their sweet time caressing over Mini’s body. 

Mini raised a brow at the boy. “Not very subtle, are you?”

Smii7y gave Mini a grin he knew well. A mischievous bastard this one. “Nope.” 

The way Smii7y said the word, popping the ‘p’, made Mini’s lips quirk up. “How old are you? Eighteen? Nineteen?”

Smii7y crossed his arms and huffed. “I’m twenty.”

Not as young as he looked. Mini figured Smii7y got that a lot by the annoyance dancing on his face. “Well, kiddo, this one’s already taken.”

Smii7y appeared to wilt, his shoulders slumping and his eyes dropping. “The good ones are always straight,” he said, defeated. 

Mini laughed.  “Straight as the dick up my ass.”

Luke shot Mini a ‘ _ what the fuck did you just say _ ’ sideways glance. Mini shrugged. Smii7y snorted, covering his mouth up with a hand. 

“I heard dick and came.” Scotty emerged from whatever hell he’d spawned in, and gave the two a too genuine smile. Mini didn’t trust it for a second. 

The innuendo was not lost on him either. Mini though, had had many years of practice to keep his face straight and likewise, did not appear to laugh at all. Smii7y on the other, had no such control and burst out laughing, a fit of madness overcoming him. 

Jay looked at the source of the raucous noise and sent Mini a pointed look. Mini shrugged again. Wasn’t his fault that Smii7y was currently dying of laughter. 

Jay rolled his eyes and turned back to speak softly with Ohm. 

_ Oh yeah _ , Mini thought,  _ we’ll get along nicely. _

****

“I still don’t know how long we’ll be here. I haven’t even been told what our mission is yet.” Mini told Tyler, playing with the edge of his shirt. In the background, Luke and Jon were arguing about yogurt, Ohm and Jay were trading techniques of takedowns, and Scotty was swatting at an imaginary bug. They were all crammed into the back of an SUV, courtesy of Jay. 

          “Craig, you need to be--what the hell is that sound?” Mini looked over to see Luke force feeding Jon yogurt, of which Mini had no fucking clue where said yogurt had come from. “Jon is dying.”

“Well why the fuck is Jon dying?”

“....He’s choking on yogurt.”

Jon coughed hard, yogurt spittle splattering on the seat in front of him. Yuck. 

“How can someone choke on yogurt?” Tyler asked, bewildered. 

Mini looked over at Jon again. “I’m not entirely sure, but he managed it.”

            Mini could practically hear Tyler shake his head over the phone. Once Jon stopped coughing up white cream, Mini gave Luke a pointed look. The bearded man put up his hands. They exchanged a silent conversation that went a little bit like this:

Hand gesture.  _ What the fuck? _

Responding hand gestures.  _ What? _

Pointed look.  _ You’re an idiot. _

_ And?  _ Cue a raised eyebrow. 

            Scotty looked back at them, glancing back and forth from Mini to Luke. “Do I want to know?” 

Mini rolled his eyes, laughing to himself. 

            “What is going on over there?” Tyler’s voice broke through the mixture of noise. Mini had forgotten he was still in a call. 

            “Not much.” Mini summarized. “Here, we’ve just arrived at our new residence for the next few weeks, I’ll call you later.”

            Mini hit the red button to end the call after a quick exchange of goodbyes. Scotty made a sound he probably thought was cute, but sounded rather strange coming from a grown man. 

Mini ignored it to get a look at their new home for a while. 

It was in the middle of picturesque British hillshire. Green rolling mounds of lush earth and winding brooks carving out their path through fields where cattle roamed. The house was old, fading red paint marking its walls. 

A sun lit porch stood out front. One of the chimes that every country house seemed to have rung merrily in the slight breeze. Mini stepped up the three steps on to the porch. He ran his fingers down the old wood railing, careful not to give himself splinters. The grain whirled and created whorls of knotted oak. A swing hung from the ceiling of the porch, the chains gleaming. 

Mini would have explored more, but the back to back plane rides was catching up to him. The jet lag would be worse if he went to sleep now, but Mini didn’t think he could manage another one hour, much less the remaining day. 

Jay came up the steps behind Mini, boots clunking on the floor. “What do you think?”

“I think I’ll form that thought when I’m more awake. Where’s a bed?” Mini gave Jay a tired smile. 

Jon appeared beside Mini, his presence felt but not seen. Mini wished he could be that quiet. “I could sleep too.”

“There’s bedrooms upstairs, though you’ll have to share.” 

Mini glanced at Jon, a silent question in his eyes. Jon nodded. “Okay,” Mini said.“We’ll take one room. Tell Luke he can sleep with Scotty.”

Mini wouldn’t call himself devious. Just… friendly. 

There were bigger problems than sleeping arrangements though, things like sleep. Mini had his pills and more for Jon, but would it be enough? The best either of them could do was not disturb anyone else in their withering nightmares. 

Mini tramped up the stairs, ignoring the rustic style of the house. Picking a room, Mini let Jon in and followed suit, closing the heavy oak behind him. 

The king sized bed was covered in a woven quilt, the bed frame made of hardened pine. A lamp sat on a similar style night stand. A window to Mini’s left had thick blackout curtains drawn back to let light in. 

Jon turned to face Mini. “I’ll assume you have the meds.” 

Mini nodded, pulling out two bottles from his backpack. He tossed one at Jon. “Hopefully they’re strong enough.”

Jon’s gaze was torn from Mini to the door as loud shriek pierced the still farm air, incoherent words floating up the stairs. Jon shook his head. “With that racket, they’ll have to be.”

“Have you slept at all since Delirious vanished?” Mini watched Jon intently, trying to peel back the layered mask. 

Jon flopped onto the bed on his back, eyes pointed up at the wooden beams. “No.”

Mini expected that answer, knew it was a likely possibility. He sat down on the other side of the bed, palms digging into the soft quilt. “Do you want to talk now or later?”

Jon uncapped the white plastic bottle, dumping out three blue tablets. He dry swallowed them in one gulp, his pale throat constricting for a moment. 

Later it is.

Mini swallowed his own pills, taking a large swig of water to wash them down. He set his water bottle on the rug beside the bed, laying back onto the assorted pillows. 

His sleep was dreamless, until it wasn’t. 

Jon’s was never dreamless. 

***

Dawn greeted them with soft gilded light spearing through the distant flat clouds. Mini hadn’t close the curtains, whether it was a mistake or a gift, he couldn’t say. Jon was already up, staring off at a corner, eyes unfocused and mind far away. 

Mini yawned, cracking his neck with an unsatisfactory pop. Muscles aching, he clambered out of bed, rummaging through his bag for clean clothes. Mini left Jon to gather his thoughts, hunting around for a shower. His skin was clogged with dirt, sweat and accumulated wear from the travel giving him the disgusting feeling. 

The bathroom was small, but clean. A square shower sat to his left, white tiled floor turned to a yellowed white with age. The cracks were maintained, filled with grout. 

Mini stripped off the prior day’s clothes, letting the cold water clean his body and clear his mind of sleep. He used the available shampoo and body wash, scrubbing his skin raw. Scrubbing away memories of Evan’s death. 

And with that, Mini stilled, unable to stop his mind from dredging up the unwanted remembrances. Bloodied hands, broken body, limp limbs, and whispered words. 

Mini leaned against the tiles, heavy with emotion. Or was it apathy that burdened him? He had a hard time telling the difference these days. 

Mini jerked his head towards the sound of a knock, shaken from his venomous thoughts. “Yes?” he called out, uncertain of himself. 

Jon responded, his voice stained with abrasive nightmares. “Ohm wants us to do something. He didn’t specify, only that we be ready in half an hour.”

 

Mini didn’t expect when Jon had told him Ohm wanted them to do something, that it would be this. 

But here they were, cleaning out the stables of a farm for a nice elderly man. It stunk of horse shit, but yet the morning air was refreshing, a change from the grimey city pollution. The work was mindless and warmed Mini’s muscles against the chill. 

The horses were out in the pasture, munching on frosted grass. In the UK, the weather was turning from the summer heat and rain to crisp mornings and a chilled sticky quality to the air. 

Mini and Jon worked in tandem, moving in sync to an unheard beat. They worked in general silence, moving from stall to stall. Some still held horses. They skipped these ones, passing around the giant stallions and the miniature menaces. 

The old man brought them water half way through. It slid down Mini’s throat gently, washing away the dust he breathed in. They thanked the man, and continued. 

As the sun climbed higher, Mini found his thoughts turn to their purpose here. They’d been sent with Ohm, a foreign leader, to a foreign team. Who knew of their mission? Ohm would, but Ohm wouldn’t tell him if Mini badgered the man. 

Mini leaned on his rake, watching Jon. “Why do you think we’re here?”

Jon paused, his rake empty, and tilted his head. “Here in this farm or here in this country?”

“Both.” Mini shrugged. 

“Well,” Jon scratched the back of his head, thinking, “I’ll assume Calibre told Ohm that we would need to talk.” There was a hint of something sour splitting Jon’s words. “As for this country, no one’s told me a fucking thing. I’m supposed to be Lui’s right hand man but here I am, raking shit into a wheelbarrow.”

Mini set his rake against the stall wall and frowned. “How did you sleep?”

A touchy subject for sure, but Mini needed to ask. 

“You know damn well how.” Jon bit out the words, hands white as they clenched the handle of the rake. 

Mini sucked in a breath. “Stop Jon, you're just turning every emotion into anger. You need to stop.”

“Or what?” Jon spun to face him in a blaze of wild words and self hatred written on his damning eyes. “Or I’ll turn into Delirious and try to kill all of my friends? Or I’ll end up killing myself this time, wouldn’t that save all your problems.”

“Jon.” 

Jon stood there, face raw and red, breathing ragged and sharp. A horse neighed to Mini’s left, pawing at its door. Mini leaned back on the heels of his feet. And when Mini looked back at Jon’s face, there were tears falling despite Jon’s attempt to control himself. 

“Go ahead Jon, scream and rant and cry. No one here can judge you. Let it burn inside of you and let it take control before it eats away at you.” 

Jon broke silently, crumbling to the ground, his legs giving way. Jon banged his fist against the hay covered ground, once, twice, and again and again, until Mini thought Jon would break his fingers. There was nothing beautiful about how Jon sobbed, how he screamed, how he was torn inside out. It was ugly. The tears flooding the floor were ugly. The hiccuped gasps of air, the curled fists, the ache deep in Jon’s lungs, all of it was ugly. 

Mini knew. Mini understood. And Mini hated it too. 

Mini waited for Jon, waited until Jon stopped breaking apart in a stall in a unknown barn in a country neither of them knew. He knelt down beside Jon, not touching him. Mini knew what to expect out of the trembling limbs. 

It still hurt when Jon’s fist connected with Mini’s ribs. The pain Mini knew so well flared up as Jon punched him until his arms could no longer support the strike, until Jon just leaned into Mini’s waiting arms and cried softly. 

“I miss him.” Jon coughed, sputtering mucus and spit. “I miss him.”

Mini didn’t reply, only held Jon as he wept away the nightmares and Evan’s chocolate brown eyes. 


	20. Chapter 20

No one said a word about the clear redness in Jon’s eyes as they came back up the porch. Mini led the man away from the bunch, away from the noise of voices and clatter of life. 

He gave Jon a stern look, pressing the bottle of pills into those cold hands, and pushed him into the bedroom. Mini wasn’t going to let Jon out until he slept. 

Mini returned to the porch where Smii7y and Kryoz were… petting each other? Mini blinked at their weird behavior and moved away, towards where Ohm and Jay were discussing what Mini assumed was the plan. 

“—according to plan.” Jay was saying once Mini reached earshot. 

The crunch of his feet on the grass alerted the two to his presence. Mini raised an eyebrow. “When am I going to find out why I'm here?”

Ohm gazed at him, face passive. Jay muttered, but did not reply. 

“Nothing? Not even a hint?” 

Jay worked his lip, having a silent conversation with the stoic Ohm. Mini glanced back and forth between the two, trying to read the soundless words being exchanged. Not that he could discover much. After a long minute, Jay nodded to Ohm and turned to Mini. 

“Calibre is an old friend. He wanted both teams to get to know each other. You’ll be getting a mission soon requiring you to work together. A bonding session if you will.” Jay said, the smooth authority rolling off his tongue. 

Mini nodded, satisfied. “When will this be?”

Ohm answered this time. “In a few days, we want you to get to know each other better before we send you out on a mission where you must depend on each other.”

“Thank you.” Mini said before leaving them to their probably surreptitious conversation. 

He followed the old dirt path down the hill to the barn. The steady hum of the natural world calmed him. The snorts of the horses, their feet shuffling against the hard dirt. Birds howling at the sun, the crackle of squirrels and chipmunks rushing about. 

The sky had turned from its sherbet orange and dyed reds to a pleasant endless beryl hue, sparse clouds, high and wispy, dotting the atmosphere to the west. Mini found a grove of twisted, tangled trees. They were short, roots breaching the cloven earth. At this time of the year, the leaves were curling into decay. Mottled a grey and brown interwoven with rich yellows and vermilion, they hung from the branches like lights on a chandelier. 

Beyond the grove, coated in shadow, stood a dark-haired man. Mini thought he recognized him as Jordan, but he couldn’t be sure from where he stood. The man didn’t move as Mini approached, escaping from under the cool canopy. The sun glared down on them. 

Sparklez, Mini could now verify as the male he’d seen in the airport, barely acknowledged him. Mini spotted white worn earbuds plugged in, the rubber-coated wire swinging freely as the wind shifted around. 

Mini wanted to get to know the man. The way Sparklez stood, the way his eyes took in the autumnal season with a grain of salt, Mini knew Sparklez was like him. That he’d been through shit and survived and he could laugh still, but the darkness was always creeping in. There was more strength to Sparklez than his defined muscles, a hard, well-fought battle in the creases of his neck and face. 

A warrior through and through. 

Mini smiled, the muscles in his face sore from disuse. He hadn’t smiled on his own for a while. It was strange, almost uncomfortable. 

He didn’t intrude on Sparklez, the moment of bliss and silence a healthy reprieve from the life of a trained mercenary. Mini backed away, strolling towards the barn he was in not an hour before. 

It was empty of life, but for one stall at the end of the row, where a sickly horse rested. The mare snuffed at the hay as he approached, her auburn mane tangled and coat unkempt. A bucket of musty water hung from one side of the beaten wood sides. It had taken on a greenish tinge. 

Mini unbolted the stall, keeping his movements slow. She watched him with wary dark eyes, but didn’t rise. He crouched down a few feet from her head and reached out with a gentle hand. Mini didn’t know her name, so he gave her one. 

“D’ Angelo.” 

She stared back at him, huffed out a soft breath and reached out, nuzzling his hand. Her skin was soft and wrinkled. Mini withdrew his hand, rising to his feet. 

“I’ll get you some fresh water, D'Angelo.”

When Mini returned, she was coughing in great bursts that wracked her entire body. Mini could only watch, water bucket dangling from his fingertips. Spittle flew, her body heaved as the uncontrollable coughs continued. He waited, waited until D’ Angelo recovered, and hung up her bucket, sitting down beside her prone form. 

She didn’t move, but her chest rose imperceptibly, the hay around her nose rustling as she breathed. He stroked her neck, running his hands along the coarse hair. Her neck was sweat coated under her mane, clumps of dirt and hay twisted into the once beautiful hair. 

“You’ve found Rose I see.” 

The old man Mini had met briefly that morning leaned against the stall door, humming a soft tune under his breath. His hair was white and stringy, not much left on his balding head. He leaned to the right, one hand shaking with an unending tremor. 

Mini continued to pet Rose’s neck. “She’s a sweet one.”

“‘Er daughter is out at pasture. Precious I call ‘er, Precious Lady. She’s as sweet as ‘er mother. I’ve had ‘er for almost twenty-six years, raised ‘er myself.”

“She’s beautiful.”

“You should have seen ‘er in ‘er prime, back some years ago. No one could match Rose on the track. Best damn race horse I ‘ever had.” The old man smiled, a smile with unspeakable tenderness. 

Mini glanced down her her patchwork coat and mangled mane. “I bet she was magnificent.” 

The old man’s grin faded, his sigh exhausted and sad. “‘Er feet pained ‘er. She limps around and it breaks my ‘eart to watch it. I give meds, but it doesn’t help my Rose enough. She barely goes out anymore to pasture anymore. I was thinkin’ of expanding ‘er window, but with winter comin’ in, I don’t want ‘er gettin‘ cold.”

“It’s the right thing to do. You know what I mean,” Mini said, patting Rose’s neck before standing. “She knows it too.”

The old man leaned against the wooden post. “I know, son. God’s callin’ ‘er name. Let Him give me the strength to do the right thing.”

Mini unlatched the gate, edging it open until he could slip through. The comforting smell of hay and horse rested on his tongue. He put a hand on the old man’s shoulder as he passed him.

Mini wasn’t religious, didn’t believe in higher beings. Couldn’t, after what he’d seen and done. He’d seen the cross over the barn’s entry though, and he knew a prayer from his travels with Scotty.  “God will give her peace. She will be free of pain and suffering. Time shall take her breath—”

“—but time shall never take her spirit.” 

Mini left the old man. It was not his to encroach upon the man’s grief. It was for one person alone to stand among the dead and today was not Mini’s turn. 

Mini’s phone vibrated against his thigh. With a smooth motion he withdrew the cheap thing.

**Kryoz is forcing us to play hide and seek. Get your ass over here, kid.**

Mini frowned at Scotty’s lack of decor, and definitely not at the odd proposition the text suggested. Or blatantly spoke of. However strange, considering the things him and his friends had used to do, it became less so. 

Mini returned to the house at a brisk pace. He didn’t want to get yelled at for missing anything or punished for making anyone wait. 

He rounded the corner of the blue building and was greeted by an all too familiar sight. Scotty dangled from a low-hanging branch of an oak tree and was talking animatedly to Smii7y. Beside the two, a mismatched group of adults gathered in a blob. Mini counted eleven. Jon was noticeably absent. 

“Hey,” he said, waving a hand towards Scotty. The man responded with an upside down thumbs up. Mini chuckled and ignored the bastard. “I heard there’s a game afoot.”

Fitz, Mini remembered, gave him a once over, but not like Smii7y had. This one was determinedly less sexual in nature. “You’re the nightmare dude.”

Who had told Fitz about the nightmares? Mini kept a smile on his face, but he would have to let Jon know about the new development. “Yeah,” he said cautiously. “I am.”

Fitz shrugged. “Scotty never stops talking.”

He wasn’t wrong. Mini shoved his hands in his pockets. “So who’s seeker then?”

Two hands grabbed Mini from behind, pulling him backwards and down. Mini resisted, snapping a hand out to dislodge those holding him. “Hey! What’s this--”

“Fix your friend,” a girl snapped back, face construed into annoyance. She pointed at Scotty. 

Mini sighed and went to take care of the adult who was stealing articles of people’s clothing. “Scott, stop.” Mini glared at the man, hand held out, palm open. 

Scotty’s shoulders slumped and his eyes dimmed. A scarf, watch, hat, and glasses land in his grasp. Mini waited. 

“Fine.” A single sock was slapped into Mini’s hand. He shook his head and set everything onto the porch swing and returned to the group. 

Kryoz stood in the middle of a sloppy circle, pointing at people and giving rules. His white hair was pulled back in a ponytail and a copious amount of rings adorned his fingers. 

“The limits are the orchard to the large willow tree and around to the road in front of the house. Smii7y is seeker first. Three rounds, whoever wins gets a loaf of bread. We’ll split into three groups of hiders, the first group is Scotty, Panda, Luke, and Sparklez. Second is Fitz, Mini, Jon, and Ohm. The last will be Jay, Syndicate, Jericho, and FireFoxx. Split up and get into your groups.”

Mini admired how much planning went into a game of hide and seek. He drifted as Kryoz spoke to the first group. Thoughts spun and swirled, unconnected and wild. The moment he’d found Jon awake, pushing past David and…

David. 

Mini wanted to smack himself. Where the fuck had David, or Nogla been all this time? He’d vanished one night and never appeared again until that day. How did he not notice? 

The fucker was alive and kicking, apparently. He’d have to have a long chat with David when they got back from London. 

“Mini,” Jon nudged his shoulder. “You think this is a good idea?”

“You need a break from your head, something to focus on and not drown it. Have fun, you’re allowed to. And if you need to stop, text me. I’ll come find you. Okay?”

Jon worried at his lip, but relented. “Okay.” he took a deep breath and smiled, a small thing, barely noticeable, but a smile all the same. “I can do that.”

Mini pulled Jon into a one-armed hug. Jon leaned in, his breath slow and heart fast. “You can do it,” Mini repeated, reassuring Jon and himself. 

“We can do it.”

“Second group!”

Hopefully. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only have two more chapters written so there might be a length where I don't post because my college English classes take time and physics takes so much effort. But I will do my best to finish chapter 23. It's started though and I have an outline for it, so it shouldn't take too long. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	21. Chapter 21

“Three, two, one, go!”

Mini split, racing down the hill, behind the house. Taking into account his grey sweats and plain tee, somewhere darker would work to his advantage. The barn reared up as Mini went around the path’s bend. It was out of bounds, but the clump of gnarled oaks wasn’t. He took a running leap and caught onto one of the lower hanging branches, still three feet above his head if he stood underneath. With all the grace he could muster, Mini swung himself up and onto the limb and immediately set about clambering up the rough bark, into the sky. 

The tree shivered as he reached as high as he dared go. Beyond his vantage point, the main trunk became too narrow and weak to support him. Mini took a seat, leaning his back against the truck and resting his feet on the limb. 

A warbled scream cut off as Smii7y shouted ‘aha’. Silence swarmed once more, the only breakage when Smii7y found someone. Mini counted each time. Three people had been found, leaving him the last hidden. 

Leaves crunched underneath the tree, but Mini couldn’t see who was under the tree, the brackish smudge of branches and dying leaves obscured his vision. He remained quiet, ignoring the itch on his shoulder. 

His phone buzzed. Mini felt his gut drop, the one little chance at having a dash of something other than relentless grief and clinging hopelessness vanishing into smoke. But when he pulled his phone out and saw the screen, his stomach rolled. 

Calibre. 

In no more than a second, his thoughts tumbled, gaining momentum and crashing over and over again against his skull. Calibre wouldn’t call unless it was serious, unless something had happened. He took a breath, forcing the hard lump out of his chest. “Hey.”

“Craig, we need you back. Bring a friend, I don’t care who. Someone that’ll work with Tyler and David. Brian has been compromised and kidnapped while Brock’s been shot. He’s fine but incapacitated so we need two more for the mission. Be here tomorrow afternoon. Tickets on me.”

Mini struggled to swallow a breath of air. He’d told Brian that he’d be okay, that he’d survive this and here was a possibility Brian wouldn’t make it out. There had always been a possibility, but now it was real, spitting in Mini’s face. 

Somewhere he found the courage to accept Calibre’s proposition. The click of the cut connection jolted Mini out of his head. Smii7y’s brown eyes were staring at him. He hadn’t heard or seen the boy approach, but there he sat, face crumpled in confusion and concern. 

The pep in Smii7y’s voice had left, leaving a heavier intonation on each word. “Mini, what’s going on?”

Mini repositioned his face into a false smile. “Nothing bad, I just have to attend to something. I need to make another call. Where’s Jon?” Smii7y pointed through the branches down to where his friend awaited. 

With no hesitation, Mini was by Jon’s side. “How are you?”

“It wasn’t bad. The boy’s loud ‘yeet’ may have startled me a bit, but otherwise I managed. It felt… less numb.”

“I’m glad that went well.” Mini’s face softened. “Hey, I need to make a call, mind covering for me?”

“Tyler?” Jon’s eyes grinned knowingly. 

Mini nodded. While it was technically true, he hated lying to his friend, but it was for Jon’s own health. The man needed a chance to heal before being thrown back into their crappy lives. 

His wandering steps lead him back to the orchard. More leaves had fallen, each footstep crackling and harshly whispering. His fingers trembled as he dialed Tyler’s number. The phone rang for too long, but Tyler picked up before Mini gave up hope and ended the call. 

Silence spanned between them. Neither knew what to say, how to comfort or connect. Tyler resorted to his old brash, automatic kind of conversations, but with a gentler edge. 

“You have anyone picked out yet?”

A wisp of a smile. “I haven’t given it a thought. The news was rough and I just got away. How are you doing?”

“Besides the rampaging anger? The torrent of uselessness? The fucking doubt? The damn fear? I locked myself in our room so I wouldn’t fucking hit someone or break something expensive.”

“I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon.”

Tyler sighed and Mini could hear the frustration, could see him clenching and unclenching a fist, fighting the urge to punch the wall. “I know. I’m happy we get to see each other, but considering the circumstances… I wish it wasn’t this way.”

“I’m not going to ask how it happened. I don’t care about that. All I want to know is our plan on getting Brian back and how Brock’s been doing.”

The was a pause, a distant voice he couldn’t make out. Tyler and the mystery spoke, muffled by the hand over the microphone. “I’m back. Brock was shot in the thigh, but Arlan’s got him all stitched up. Fuckin’ idiot tried to convince Calibre he was good to help but Lui told him right up. He’s been moping around the house, cleaning everything he can reach. He even shined my truck up. Dumb fuck.”

The fall was past its beauty. The trees were spindles and thorns reaching for a bleached sky. A shiver ran down Mini’s spine as a cold wind blew, darker clouds brewing to the west. “I can’t imagine what he’s going through.”

“I can.”

Guilt wormed its way up Mini’s throat. “I hate that you do.”

“Look, just get your ass back here and bring someone good. I’ll see you then.” Mini echoed Tyler’s sentiments and hung up, closing his eyes. 

With an exhalation, he turned to head back, but found Smii7y standing not ten feet away. The boy was quiet, uncomfortably so. He was giving Mini an inquisitive look. An idea struck Mini. 

“Hey Smii7y, what’s your role in the group?” Mini strode over. 

“First one in, I scout and take out guards usually. What’s it to you?” Smii7y crossed his arms and leaned back on his left leg. “What’s going on?”

Mini gauged him. “I’ll bet you’re silent, good with a silenced pistol and throwing knives. Am I missing anything?”

“My dick.” The cocky bitch grinned, but fell back as Mini didn’t react. “Fine. I can also disappear if I need to. None of that magic shit, just good ol’ mind games.”

Yeah, he’d work. Mini checked off the box in his head and finally showed emotion. “You ever been to America, kid?”

***

Mini closed the bedroom door and faced Jon. He was sitting on the bed, hunched over, twiddling with the ring. Mini had set up plans with Smii7y, explaining what to expect when they landed, but he hadn’t mentioned Tyler or Nogla yet. He wasn’t sure how to broach the topic. Jon was another matter. Luke had informed him that Mini was leaving, and he trusted Luke to take care of Jon. 

Jon looked up, eyeing the bag in Mini’s hand. “You’re leaving.”

Mini sat down beside Jon, twisting the ring out of his hands. He found the small blue box thrown behind on the tangle of bedsheets and gently placed the ring in its velvet hold. “Calibre wants me to bring someone from here back to the house. I chose Smii7y to come with me. I wanted to talk with you before I leave for the airport tonight.” 

Jon started tapping his fingers on the bed, the motion full of nervous energy. “I know. Have you been out to the orchard?”

It was an odd question, out of the blue. Mini tilted his head to the left out of habit. “Yes, what about it?”

Jon met his eyes, fractured blue skies. But there were branches stemming from the dry earthen edges, a beacon of, not hope, but peace. “I met with Jordan there. Sparklez, whatever.” Jon waved away his slip of the tongue. “We spoke. He’s not so different from us. He gave me something to hold onto though. A reminder.”

Mini soaked up Jon’s mood. The hurt was still there, echoing around what felt like an empty shell of a man. It had carved a huge chunk out, but whatever it was that Jordan had given Jon, Mini was glad. “I’ll leave all the pills for you. I don’t sleep on planes. Luke’s planning on moving in here with you, but if you don’t want him too, I don’t think you’ll find much push back. Him and Ohm have gotten closer.”

“I’ve heard.” Mini raised an eyebrow. Jon jerked his head towards the pairs’ bedroom. “Luke won’t bloody shut up”

“Bloody?”

“Shush it.”

“It rubs on you, their way of speaking. I kind of like it,” Mini said. He started moving around the room, packing up clothes currently strewn across the floor. He paused after zipping up the backpack, looking up. “You think you’ll be alright?”

Jon held up his hand in response. It was trembling, but not as much as before. Progress was progress. “The more time I spend here, the farther I get from him. He haunts my dreams, but he’s becoming easier to forget in the morning, harder to see. I don’t think he’ll ever go away, but I can live like this, with and without him.”

An uncoordinated shape flew into the room. “Dude, we’re leaving soon. Before we hop of a stupidly long flight, I’m going to show you London.” Smii7y grinned, face flushed from his flight up the stairs. 

Mini have Jon a knowing look. Something told him it would be while before they saw each other again. “Until next time, my friend.”

Jon surprised Mini by pulling him into a hug. It was short and curt, but Jon wasn’t a touchy person and to push past that meant the world. “Goodbye Craig.”

And then Smii7y was pulling Mini, speed talking, nearly tripping over the edge of the carpet in his mad dash to the awaiting SUV. Doubt corroded his head. What if he had chosen wrong? What if they weren’t in time? What if… 

No. No time for those thoughts. No time to hunch over and drown himself in them. There was a job to be done and Smii7y was absolute in his determination to make Mini’s experience in London worth the time. 

The car peeled away, Fitz at the wheel. The banter between the two was steady, only interrupted by bouts of laughter and half glares. Mini settled to stare out the window at the passing countryside. 

Hopefully, this time, this trip wouldn’t take his spirit. 

***

Building towered above him on all sides, the narrow english streets convening at awkward angles. It was beautiful though, the architecture. Stone terraces with balustrades overhanging the roads next to modern glass and metal behemoths. Each edifice was was unique, a different color or design. Houses, though clustered together with no room between the next, stood apart from each other—some had wooden door knockers, others’ doors were brightly shaded, roofs with crowning painted a stark white or a deep black. 

But standing above the giants was the monolithic Shard. It pierced the grey sky, the tallest building on the south side of the river Thames. As they came out of the clogged streets, Smii7y pointed out the Tower Bridge to their right and along the river bank on the other side of the river, stood the Tower of London. It was made of white aged stone, the discolored centers rimmed with a cream white. The White Tower stood proudly in the middle, four towers rising from its four corners. They ended in domed made of ceramics and stone, the cap jutting upward as a single slice of roughened stone. Low buildings surrounded the castle, and Mini could see people roaming about as they drew closer. 

Smii7y gave a short backstory of the place, rambling more about how cool castles were and how he loved the medieval ages than the actual history. Fitz occasionally dropped in other information about random buildings as they passed by. 

Fitz pulled over about twenty minutes later outside a tiny shop. It was a baby blue with pastel pink sign reading  _ Udderlicious Ice Cream _ . The shop sat on the corner of two dreary looking streets, the cheery atmosphere juxtaposed against the dull and darker hues of the nearby edifices. 

“Best place in all of London.” Smii7y grinned, opening Mini’s door. “You’ll love it. People vote on which ice cream they serve for each month. It’s great.”

Mini was encased in a warm, cascading glow as he stepped inside, soft music playing in the background. The line of people indicated Smii7y hadn’t been lying. Flavours were laid out under a glass case, from Mini’s favorite, chocolate honeycomb, to an apple sorbet. 

Which is how Mini found himself licking away the last bites of chocolate honeycomb as they sailed through downtown to reach Heathrow. The sun was getting low in the sky and their flight was at eight tonight. The clock read six twenty two. Mini mapped it out on his phone—they were almost forty minutes away. 

EDM music blasted through the speakers, gauging Mini’s ability to remain calm. So far, he’d plugged in his own earbuds and tried to drown it out with his preferred indie rock. The ride came to a halt as they hit traffic, but the time on google maps had accounted for that and they reached the airport an hour before their flight. 

Check in went by quickly, thanks to platinum memberships. Security was stressful as usual. Mini hated being on camera, his face for any agent to see. His only solace was that they barely gave him a second glance. Twenty minutes later, and one frappe for Smii7y, the basic white bitch boy, they sat down at their gate. 

“You are addicted to that shit.”

Smii7y shrugged, sucking up the last remains of the drink. “Yeah, you got anything to say about that?” 

Mini shook his head, and played on his phone, jumping from random app to random app. He thank whatever gods existed when they called their flight. Smii7y wasn’t good at staying still. He had, in order, repeatedly asked Mini to pick him up like Simba and sing the song, poked him in the cheek until Mini slapped his hand away, and crawled underneath the provided seating, pretending he was a turtle. 

Maybe Smii7y really was a white ass bitch boy. How the boy was going to sit still for a nine hour flight was beyond Mini. Hopefully he’d conk out. 

He was rewarded with just that— half an hour in, Smii7y had slumped over, his head falling on Mini’s shoulder. His white fluff of hair poofed out, some getting in Mini’s mouth. He spat it out and faced the window. Clouds flitted by underneath them, obscuring the ground and its million lights. 

The selection of movies was limited, but Mini hadn’t watched one in years. He put his headphones on and let the last few months slip away. 

Two and a half movies later, they landed and Mini woke a drooling Smii7y. The boy grumbled, shaking his hair all over the place. 

“Welcome to America, sleepy head.”

What a hellhole. 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the last chapter for a bit until college calms down, though I can promise the next chapter will be a long one. Enjoy.

**_Chapter 22_ **

The small table in the dining room was not meant to accommodate more than four people. There were seven of them crowded together, but no one complained. Mini kept giving David side glances, measuring up the difference from the one he’d known and what stood to his right. There was the new scar on David’s throat, a thin vertical line tracing down his chin and turning diagonally down his throat. But it was more than the stubble that wasn’t shaved or the scar or the bruised upper lip. There was something in his eyes, something haunting him, but Mini didn’t know what. He’d confront David later. 

Their greeting at the airport had been curt, much to Smii7y’s dissatisfaction. Tyler had enveloped Mini in a hug the moment he came within range, and Smii7y, poor man, had tried to make a joke about it, but Tyler had stared him down. 

The ride had been quiet. Mini leaning on Tyler the whole ride, listening to his heartbeat. Calibre drove without music, eyes vigilant for any mishaps or unshakable cars. Tension simmered, cloaking the car. 

Mini worried. Brian had to be alive still, the man was strong and wouldn’t give up information easily. None of the team would. But the torture would be brutal and ruthless, without end. Another broken soldier, Mini didn’t think the team could take that blow. 

Numbers, people kept dwindling down, first David disappeared, then Evan died and Delirious came out and ruined Jon, and Mini himself had been struggling. Brock was shot, Brian kidnapped. They needed a win desperately. 

“—will be joining us on this mission. I asked Craig to choose someone and he brought back one of Jay’s. From what Craig told me, he’s a scout. Quiet and stealth is your forte, if I heard correctly?” Lui turned to Smii7y, looking for confirmation. 

“I usually take out guards, infiltrate and figure out the lay of the land. Jay lets the others close in and do more of the dirty work while I kept back and watch for reinforcements in case an alarm sounds. Parkour’s my favorite though, targets never can seem to shoot a man running on walls.” 

Calibre rolled his eyes and continued. “Marcel, Tyler, Craig, you three will search the building for Brian. David, I want you with… what’s your real name?”

Smii7y blinked. “We don’t share those. Easier to pretend we don’t know each if we can’t slip up.”

“You’ve been seen together before, I think that’s beyond the point. And you’re here now, and we stopped that crap almost two years ago. So spill.” 

He hesitated, mulling over it. They waited, all eyes on the crazy kid turned gang member. Hired help, sorry. “Jaren. My name is Jaren.” 

It suited him. The name came easily to Mini’s mind, filling in an empty slot. Jaren picked at his thumb, and Mini put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze before returning to Tyler’s side. 

“David will be our sniper and Jaren, you’ll do your job and then hang back to watch as you mentioned. Marcel, you take the throwing knives for this expedition. Mini, you get two suppressed pistols and an AR. Tyler, your usual. Once I get us a complete layout of the building, I’ll give a more detailed explanation. Expect us to move out in less than twenty four hours. Craig, Jaren, I suggest you get some rest.”

Meeting adjourned, Tyler pulled Mini aside before he could follow David. They needed to talk. Tyler closed the door to one of the random rooms in the beat up house. He yanked Mini into a searing kiss and then pushed him away, hand intertwined behind his head before they fell to his sides again. 

“Tyler.” Mini reached out, steadying the big man with a touch. “What happened?”

Tyler shook his head and sat down on a sore-looking chair. “I don’t know. It was all going good and then it wasn’t and Brock was screaming something and then I heard a shot.”

“What were you guys doing?” Mini hadn’t known of any mission. Tyler hadn’t mentioned any on the phone. 

“We got wind of a rogue past client and went to silence the bastard before he talked too much. It didn’t go so well. He had to know we were coming, but how boggles me. We didn’t leave any digital trail or paper one. I don’t understand.” 

Listening to the heat die from his voice, the anger drain and pool down beneath silenced Mini. He knew the cause. He knew it well. Helplessness. 

“We got plenty of experience on this team. I know Jaren’s as good as he says he is and with Nogla as our sharpshooter, I’m sure we’ll be fine. We can get them out Tyler. We will.” Mini was certain they would. With more people and a better plan, they could do most anything. 

They sat in silent comfort of each other, warmth meeting warmth, yet something was amiss. Mini wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but it was more than the air that felt cold. He couldn’t place a finger on what had changed though. 

“You really think it’ll all be okay?”

_ No. I don’t know. _ “Yes.”

Tyler rested his chin on his hand. “I believe you.” he sighed heavily and rose. “Calibre is having me review Jaren and will have me give my honest opinion. A little training session if you will. I hope you’re right about how good he is.” he left and Mini hugged his shoulders for a minute before going to find David.

He found the man on the skinny balcony hanging off the back of the house. The railing was rusted and falling off its bolts. Mini stepped out into the smoggy air, taking in the dead grass and trees lining dead houses and neighborhoods. 

“You have questions.” Mini kept his mouth shut, leaning on the peeling wall. “I came out here to get some fresh air.” Nogla shook his head, laughing humorlessly. “There’s no damn fresh air in this entire city.

“I didn’t understand why you always went up to the roof. I thought you didn’t like us for a time, or maybe you were a huge introvert or maybe you just liked sitting up on the roof, hell I didn’t know. Gave up on it after a while. Now, here I am out on a balcony like it’s a fucking movie.”

Car tires squealed a few blocks away, screeching at the road. Mini gazed steadily at David, unblinking. Waiting. 

“Let’s go inside and get a drink. God knows I need one.” Mini followed Nogla, lagging behind. There were differences in the man. How he walked, guarded and tense, how he stood, vigilant and sure. Something had happened to force these changes. These changes that made Nogla more like Mini and Jordan. 

A bottle of J&B was pulled out, halfway gone from the cupboard in the kitchen. Two glasses poured and one long silence later, Mini felt the warmth of alcohol pool into his gut. It loosened his knees, a strange slippery feeling that he had never liked. 

“What happened, David?”

“Calibre sent me off to track down a threat that had popped up on our radar. An old client had threatened exposure on some void claims of revenge. His past was being dug up by FBI and we couldn’t have them find out about our operation, so I trailed him. Ran into trouble along the way. Had to dispatch several hit men. Once Mr. Vachernada found about me, he had ordered the attacks. I got a couple scars from that, nothing too serious. Then I found out what Mr. Vachernada had been hiding all those years, why he had hired us. He was sick. The thing he did to people. I found a video on his personal laptop of him raping a woman as she was tortured. He poured boiling water into her and he was so calm about it. He didn’t smile, didn’t show remorse, just fucking did it. 

“I wanted to kill him when I found out. Wanted to throw his ass into a pit of fire and not look back, but Calibre said to wait. Plans had to be kept intact and that meant living with that knowledge.” Nogla necked the rest of the drink and poured himself another. “Fucking politicians and their fucking actions.”

“Here, here.” 

“Fast forward a month, the bastard’s still alive and I can’t kill him yet. Calibre keeps telling me ‘no’. Sometimes I want to wring his neck for that. How about you? How was London? Oh and you can’t tell anyone about our threat yet, Calibre wants this low key. Bastard. ”

Mini sank back in the chair at the complete one eighty Nogla had pulled. “London was good for me. Get out of the country, out of this stinkin’ country. The other team, I never got to see them in action but they were good, you could see how cohesive they were. A true family.  Makes me wonder what we are these days. Maybe back in training we were like that, but now? I don’t know.”

“Here, here.”

And they drank another glass of J&B and kept drinking another glass till the bottle was empty and their heads heavy. 

****

The knives thudded into the tiny oak tree as Jaren threw them. When he occasionally missed, which wasn’t as often as Mini had expected, it was followed up with about of intense cursing. That boy did have a sailor’s tongue. 

The day was sunny, a few sparse clouds rolling across the sky. Despite the shine, the air was sharpened by the coming of winter. Another metal thud rang out and with it a shower of gold and orange and brown leaves falling around the tree’s base. 

Two hours. Two hours and they would be piling into that ford truck and hauling ass to the old warehouse complex Brian was being kept in. 

Waiting was something Mini had always been good at. Waiting in lines, for special events, linger car rides, but waiting here, knowing Brian was probably getting hurt, over and over…that took every ounce of his strength to sit still, to act like he wasn’t repeating future events in his head like a mantra. 

He raised his eyes as Jaren sauntered over, grin too cheery, too open. That kind of smile didn’t belong among the coughing cars and churning storms behind eyes lost in unrelenting thoughts. It was a fresh glass of water amid the ocean, but Mini’d had enough of floating adrift, out of control. He’d had too much experience drowning in water six inches deep to find joy like that. But he had to admit, it was refreshing to see hope in someone else’s eyes again. 

Jaren leaned against the chain link fence. “What’s with everyone locking themselves away and staring off into the distance as if they’re haunted? It so depressing around here.”

“How long have you been a part of your team?”

Jaren frowned. “Two years, why?”

Mini scuffed the dirt beneath his beat up trainers, mulling over the right words before looking him in the eyes. “And how people have you lost?” Jaren opened his mouth, but no words came out. He shut it with a heavy sigh. 

The sun disappeared under a large, puffy cloud, shading them. Without the warmth of the light, Mini shivered, goosebumps breaking out on his arms. 

“Evan was our first to die. He was one of my best friends and Jon’s almost husband. The stabbing he survived, but the infection got him in the night. I watched him die. We lost Jon to Delirious that night, the grief of losing the most important person in his life too much to cope with. Before that, Nogla, or David, had disappeared, and none of us knew where too except Calibre and he never said a word.”

It was the most open he’d been to someone outside the team in years. The words came with ease, and stayed lingering on his tongue. Perhaps he shouldn’t have said as much, but Mini didn’t think Jaren was the type to spill prematurely. 

Jaren’s cockiness fell apart and the man showed through the boy. “Is that our future, to become like you and your team? Hopeless and tired?”

Mini sucked in a breath. “I don’t know. Don’t lose people. Fight tooth and nail for each other and watch your back. Who knows, maybe you team is better equip to take damage. We just crumbled like cake and never recovered. We did everything wrong. You need to do everything right.”

“And how do we do that?”

Mini didn’t have an answer. He wasn’t sure if there was one in the first place. These things were too messy, too random and broken and power ridden to have an answer, much less a right one. He shook his head, smothering the pity with a faded smile. “If I knew that kid, I’d have told you.”

Jaren nodded, a faraway look in his brown eyes. Mini had a feeling Jaren's brain was back outside of London, in a house made home from the people who lived in its arms. 

Mini wished he had an answer, wished he could give Jaren the solace and safety of mind. But… he couldn’t. And that made him yearn for it all the more. 

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually found time to work on this. By that I mean I stayed up until midnight working on it when I have a 9 am class tomorrow. Today. Whatever. I have no idea how much time I'll have to write more, I've got short stories due soon and a play to write. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

The world was passing him by. Not in some dramatic way, in a flare of light or darkness, but in small moments, when time stood still just for him. Maybe it was a crazy notion, but he missed the humble mundane slivers in life. Mornings before the sun rose into an awaiting sky, and after sunset, when the lights or the stars shone bright above a cloud blanketed horizon. Coffee shops and a cup of warm tea by a chilled window. Comfort and safety in a world of uncertainty. But those things stayed with those who let them. Mini couldn’t yet. The job demanded good memories become just that—memories.

Mini sat crunched in the red truck, squished between Marcel and Brock. Tyler leaned against the passenger door, keeping his eyes open as they loitered on the street. They were in the midwest somewhere, by the huge farm warehouses where picked crops were kept. The buildings towered over them, each chock full of potatoes or grain or beets. 

Fresh air was appealing, and rather than to continue sit in a cramped space, he elected to step out. Brock and Marcel were likely thrilled. Marcel wasn’t the biggest fan of small spaces as it was. 

The sun beat down on them, and though winter was around the corner, today was one of those few weird days out of the calendar that decided to say ‘fuck that’ to their seasons. 

“Hey.” Tyler put an arm around Mini’s shoulders, pulling him in tight. Wordless as the moment was, he wanted to talk. There had been something on his mind for a while now. “You mind if we talk?”

“What about?”

Mini turned, Tyler’s arm dropping off his shoulder. “The future. Of us. Them. The gang. What happens next.”

“That’s a lot. You sure this is the right time?”

“When is there ever a ‘right time’? We should talk while we still can.” Both of them stayed quiet as that sunk in. While he hadn’t intended it to come out so depressing, it wasn’t far from the unfortunate truth. 

“You’re right.” Tyler stood up straight, and guided him a few feet farther from the truck, jerking his head at the truck. “Don’t like having private conversations in front of people.”

“I don’t think Marcel or Brock really care much about our conversation, Tyler.” 

“What’s been on your mind?”

Straight and to the point. Mini smoothed his wrinkled shirt, and shoved his hands in his jean pockets. “I figure if we want to keep this going, we should make a plan or something. We can’t continue to be a part of this. At least, I can’t, not for the rest of my life. This group of people, what we stand for now versus back then, has changed. I’ve made lifelong friends, but how long is that life going to be? Evan’s dead, Jon is in no condition to keep doing this, neither am I.  We’re going down a path and it’s hard to see a favorable end. After this, I’m not sure I’ll be sticking around.” Mini shut his mouth; he hadn’t meant to say that. It had been lingering in the back roads of his head, but until now he hadn’t given when he’d leave much thought. “I didn’t—”

“No,” Tyler cut in. “You did.” Mini looked at his feet, the weathered boots he wore shuffling the against the dirt of the ditch. “When were you going to tell me, or Calibre?”

“I don’t know. I hadn’t thought it through yet. I just know I can’t stay. Yes, this is my family, but sometimes family isn’t good for you.”

“And me?”

“I was hoping you’d come with.” Awkward and cliche as the statement was, Mini meant it.

Tyler pulled him into a tight embrace. “You dumbass. Of course I’m coming with.” 

A breath of relief drained much of the tension from Mini’s body. An irrational part of him he hadn’t been able to quell lay dormant, silent. That worry washed away and was replaced with a new thought. What if one of them didn’t make it that far? It wasn’t far fetched to believe that he or Tyler might get killed before they were able to leave. 

Sometimes Mini hated caring about people. 

Under the crook of Tyler’s arm, Mini spotted a cloud of rising red dust speeding toward them, framing the white truck Jaren’d taken off in. 

“We got company,” Mini said as he pushed himself away, straightening his shirt for what it was worth. “You ready?”

Tyler confirmed it with a nod. “The question is, is Brock?”

Jaren hopped out of the pickup as David slammed the door. “You boys are in for a treat.” David leaned against the not-so-white truck. “We got about two dozen on site, five guards loaded with scoped ARs and three snipers on the roof. Minimize death counts here, shoot to maim, not kill.”

Tyler wrinkled his nose, and Marcel frowned, asking, “Why?”

David answered before Jaren could. “This is political now. We can’t go mad and kill everyone, though I know we all wouldn’t mind making the bastards pay. Anything to further provoke Vach would entail more attention by not only him, but the FBI. They already vaguely know of us, we shouldn’t risk becoming a higher priority.”

“Not even a little death?”

David shook his head and Marcel deflated. They picked themselves up, piling back into their respective seats. Mini found himself in the back of Jaren’s truck with a window seat view of the fast approaching warehouse complex. It rose out of the dry, flat land, dark smoke pouring of the tall smokestacks. Ten foot fences enclosed the complex, topped with barbed wire and the occasional spark from unstable electrical output. 

Industrial evil, as the green environmentalists would say. Mini took it as a different kind of evil, the kind that festered at the heart of capitalism, but that debate would remain for another day. This wasn’t the time to start a controversial conversation in his head or out loud, not that he was an expert in economics. Something about Locke or Hobbes? High school knowledge didn’t stick to him. 

Ready was not said out loud, but heard in David’s glance at them as they gathered about a mile away. The dust trails made by the trucks would be a dead give away, leaving them to trek the last mile on foot. In an open plain such as these, they would need the cover of darkness. Under the pretense of ‘fucking around in style’, as Jaren had proudly called it, the team would mess around with fireworks and in general do things that were not wholly legal, but were accepted as normal. 

Marcel had come up with the idea when David had pointed out the problem of open, flat land. After Calibre mulled it over, he begrudgingly agreed that it might work. Mini held no doubt that they would be noticed and marked off as ‘hooligans’ by the guards. Empty bottles of moonshine and vodka littered the back of David’s truck, and the stereotypical red and white cooler sat by the back left tire. 

While everyone mimed relaxation, they were anything but. Tyler’s shoulders never dropped and Brock’s eyes betrayed naught but worry and tension. Mini himself felt the line down his back pinch. 

Three hours. The sun blazed in the sky, hot for a late October day. Hot for a autumn day in the Midwest, Mini amended. Calibre had made rules for their little stunt. No one could go anywhere without another person, and always had to tell everyone where they were going and how long they’d be gone. Tension rippled through the group as the sound of a gunshot blasted from the east, where the compound sat. 

Out here, anything went. A few stray shots echoing around the empty flatlands meant nothing to the farmers and country people. It could have been fireworks too, the difference between the two was negligible. 

Tyler came up behind him, resting his head on Mini’s. The weight, solid and warm, helped ease the stress riding his back. He leaned into him, letting the safety of the embrace filter past the worries simmering on the surface. 

Marcel, David, and Jaren unpacked the fire wood as Brock carved a bowl into the parched dirt with the small shovel Scotty had supplied. The dull thud of wood hitting the earth cleared his thoughts. Everyone here was capable and strong in their own right. The politician would rue taking Brian. 

Fucking politics. Always in the way of doing good and never doing the right things. That’s what it felt like these days. For whatever matter congress tackled, they had yet to treat humans as humans. Whatever minority group you delved into, repression and dehumanization floated to the surface. And it wasn’t always minority groups, woman, who make up a great number, were repressed still, in what they called ‘modern’ days. 

A shiver raced down his body and Mini quelled the train of thought, anger would do him no good. Anger rarely did any good. Quiet hatred on the other hand…

Jaren wandered over once the fire burned bright. “Mini, can I talk to you for a second?”

He extracted himself from Tyler, jerking his head in the direction of Marcel and David. “Go talk to them for a bit. Catch up with David.”

Jaren gave Tyler a tight lipped smile before pulling Mini away from the cluster of people. The brown haired boy tugged at the tangled mop, his face losing all signs Mini had come to associate with him, the crinkle in the corner of his left eye, the permanent smirk, the slight head tilt to the right. 

“I’ve been talking with Kryoz,” he paused, gathering his thoughts. “He wants me to come back soon, but I’m not sure I want too. You need someone else who’s capable and my team is in a lull, between jobs.”

“But?” Mini prompted. 

Jaren dropped his hands, shoving them in his ridiculously large pockets. “But I miss him and I miss Britain, the familiarity. But mostly John. He’s the other side of my coin. That sounds super cliche and bullshit, but it’s the first time we’ve been apart since I joined.”

“Jaren?” Mini asked gently, “Do you like John?”

Caught off guard, Jaren’s mask didn’t slip over in time. “What—no, why do you ask?” Mini stared, raising his eyebrows. The boy managed to melt even farther, eyes downcast. “Yeah, I do.”

Mini took a step forward, angling his body to block Jaren’s view of the others. “How much?” 

“Enough to never want to lose him.”

Mini met Jaren’s warm brown eyes, a stricken smile faltering on his face. “Don’t lose him and don’t hesitate to let him know how you feel. Don’t wait. I’ll get you a plane booked after this back to England. You’re going back and you’re going to have a long conversation with him.”

Jaren hesitated, but nodded. “Okay. 

“Was there anything else you’d like to tell me?”

“I got an update on Jon. He’s doing a bit better. Luke is watching over him, making sure he eats and sleeps. He’s sleeping better, doesn’t wake up as much each night and he’s managed to smile a bit more. They have him helping with horse chores and they got him a cat to take care of. A five week ragdoll kitten they adopted from a nearby shelter, he named her Rynx. 

“He’s warming up to my team, but John said that he’s still super distant in conversation. He’s started drinking a lot of tea. Oh and he also mentioned to tell you that Luke is falling head over heels for Ohm.”

“I’m not surprised,” Mini said dryly. “And I’m glad he’s doing a bit better. The cat was a good touch too. She’ll be good for him.”

“I can’t wait to meet her. I’m a dog person really, but who doesn’t watch cat videos until four am?”

Mini rolled his eyes. “You young people stay up way to late. “

“You’re one to talk. And I’m not that much younger than you.”

“You’re still a kiddo to me, kiddo.” Jaren took a deep breath while Mini grinned at him. “Come on, let’s get back to the others.”

They slipped into the circle that had formed around the fire, the smoke licking at his face no matter where he sat; it followed him like a lost puppy. Two bouts of coughing and a chant of ‘chug chug chug’ later, Mini choose to give up on sitting by the fire. 

The smell of wood smoke reminded him of his days on the road with Scotty and Friday nights with the group, both labeled as good memories, although not always easy. Teasing voices and wrestling matches flitted through, the random jump shots unorganized. 

The day poured on, moving through molasses. An hour ticked by quick enough, but as they reached the halfway point, time dipped and Mini found himself checking his watch every couple minutes. 

People came over and talked with him, but Mini didn’t try to keep conversation. His mouth felt glued shut, his jaw heavy, words scattered and useless. Brock settled by him and they sat in their own quiet together. 

The bags under Brock’s eyes were bruises, the blue and purple splotches on his arms and neck distractions. And Mini knew the feeling, the deep worry that couldn’t be shaken, the sleepless nights and broken thoughts. 

No comfort could change it. No words he could say, nothing but a safe and well Brian. It wouldn’t stop the nightmares or racing thoughts, when they got Brian back. Maybe some comfort could be given, but it won’t stop. He knew. He didn’t try to console Brock, he didn’t have the energy. 

Twilight struck, cold and brazen on the horizon. The fireworks boomed in the sky, hundreds of feet high, but never able to touch the stars. The mood grew serious, talk growing thin and haggard. 

As darkness descended, Mini found himself growing calmer, the tension easing from his shoulders. Tyler sought him out, giving him a meaningful look, telling him he wasn’t allowed to die, or get injured. He raised an eyebrow as if to say  _ me? get injured? nah.  _

They put out the fire and threw all evidence of their time spent in the back of the pick up truck. No flashlights allowed until it had been deemed safe. Mini’s eyes acclimated to the dark. The half moon lit up the earth in ethereal light, faint and spectral. Faces remained obscured, smudgy details and his innate understanding of his friends giving away who was who. 

No words were left as they stalked toward the warehouses. The temperature dropped quickly, leaving a chill wherever Mini’s skin lay exposed. His breath fogged the air, dissipating into the sky.  

Broken, dead crops littered the fields, the earth dry and crumbling. Each step left a deep hole, dirt tumbling over his black and grey combat boots. The compound appeared quiet and empty, not a single soul moved inside the fencing. 

Mini and Jaren shared a look before him and David sprinted off in opposite directions to cut through the fence first and get a height advantage. The team split behind them, moving slower to give the two time. Mini and Tyler followed Jaren, while Brock and Marcel went after David. 

Calibre had questioned Mini and Tyler staying together, but in the end, he let them after a few short, intensive questions. The muffled sound of a body gasping for air reached his ears before it was cut off. The fences gaped at them, the chain link clips busted open. The faint hum of electricity faded as they passed through and hid behind one of the smaller warehouses. 

The suppressed rifles made quick work of any sentries. Mini spotted two dropping in succession, another farther east, by the biggest building. He and Tyler waited as the compound came alive. Jaren dropped down beside them once the lights burst on, flooding the ground and roofs with white light. 

Boots pounded on the hard packed earth, shouts echoing around the flimsy metal walls. A ghostly grin greeted Mini as he looked back at Jaren. The rifle had been shouldered and the knife he had was in his hand. 

He pointed at Mini. “You drink a shot for every man I get and I’ll drink a shot for every one of yours. Deal?”

“You realize you’re not allowed to drink in this country, kiddo.” Mini grinned back. 

Jaren frowned. “You mean to tell me that, while on a secret mission to rescue one of your boys, who is considered a murderer by the FBI and CIA, from a political group, who is trying to kill us, that I can’t  _ drink?" _

“When you put it like that…” Mini nodded slowly. “Yes.”

Jaren huffed a split second before an explosion shattered the night. They hit the dirt, the fire blooming upward from one of the warehouses. Through the chaos and noise, Mini heard a distinct yell of ‘shit’ coming from his left. The flames licked high, lighting up the yard better than the puny search lights could. 

While a distraction had been planned, David hadn’t told anyone what it would be. If that wasn’t it…

“Go.”

In the following moments, Mini found himself face to face with two soldiers, who at first tried to order him around. That was before one’s kneecaps shattered as Tyler shot one and Mini rolled with his knife in hand, slicing the Achilles tendons of the other. 

_ Maim, not kill. _ He pulled the guns away from the men and threw them toward the blaze eating up the stars and belching out smoke. One of the smaller buildings loomed up ahead. Mini motioned to Tyler, jerking his head. The big man nodded and sprayed fire with his AR as Mini made a run for the yawning door. Heat poured out from the inferno not two hundred feet from where he stood, sweat dripping down his face. Cool air wafted out from the edifice in front of him and his ducked inside. 

The floor was concrete, uneven and worn smooth in places. He would have taken the chance to point out the evidence to Tyler about how predictable humans were, but there was a bigger goal. Brock stepped in behind him, eyes searching. His demeanor remained too calm, while the frantic motions as he swept over the room revealed the hidden panic. 

Gun out, Mini grabbed the single door leading out of the room, deeper inside. Slowly he inched it down. Brock waited with his AR and a frightening stillness that told Mini everything he needed to know if someone stood behind that door.  

A dark corridor gaped at them, the concrete floors and thin walls making a drastic change to plush carpet and a pinewood veneer. Five years ago Mini would have called it homey, but it reminded him now of lecherous eyes and rampart corruption. 

They stepped into the hallway, Brock leading, his one pistol aimed at the door. Mini had his AR pointed at the ground, the safety off. He didn’t want to accidentally hit Brock. 

Eyes trained, Brock slid the door open, crouched low. A bullet buried itself in the soft pine a foot above Brock’s head. Mini ducked down, aiming high, sliding to the other side of the skinny hallway. 

Shots wizzed back and forth. One of the men grunted as a bullet busted through his shoulder, his arm hanging useless. The lights flickered on, revealing the dark masses as three men. Brock stood and without thinking, shot one of the men in the head. Mini tossed him a dark look, ruminating over what Nogla had said before. But he didn’t say anything. He thought these men better off dead too. 

Knocking out the remaining two with a hard pistol whip, they cleared the next two rooms together before coming across the biggest one. The ceiling arched high, the walls and roof made of thin wavy steel. A ladder leaned against the wall to Mini’s right, leading up to the loft. The layout was an open plan, reminiscent of a flat he’d stayed years ago while on the run with Scotty. 

Funny how it came back to him while he shot a man in the arm. 

They took the weapons from the men, disabling them, without trying to kill. Mini didn’t want to try and by the looks of it, Brock didn’t either. But Nogla’s warning echoed in his head. 

They didn’t find Brian. Jaren did. 

Mini backed away and Brock ran forward. The paradoxical sight made him want to hurl and yet settled his nerves. Brian was alive. 

But that was where the relief ended. Bound with rope, hand and foot, with a noose around his neck, the frayed end dangling over his chest, and bruises littering his body, missing two fingers, Mini found his body heaving out scraps until his stomach had nothing left to give. Then he kept heaving. 

He slumped against a crate, his arm shaking too much to support any weight. He landed with a thud. Tyler sat next to him. 

“He’s alive.” Mini took a ragged breath. “He’s alive.”

Brock had discarded his gun and started tending to Brian. No one else was seriously hurt, David had a shallow cut on his forearm, and Jaren had had a close call with a bullet that left a trail on his cheek, but they were okay. They were alive.

David and Marcel collected at the men left, keeping their weapons trained on the tight group. Many were distracted by the hole in their limbs or a well placed knife on tendons. The collection of dead piled as Jaren carried in new bodies. 

Tyler brushed his thumb over Mini’s palm. He closed his eyes, focusing on the touch, slowing his breathing. His chest felt tight, his head spinning. There wasn’t enough air and his lungs wanted more. But he took deep, deliberate breaths. Tyler talked about something, Mini couldn’t understand over the noise in his head. But the sound helped ground him. His body shivered and his throat burned. Minutes passed like seconds and hours.

When he opened his eyes again, Brian limped, guided by Brock, out the shed’s huge door. Tyler rambled on, unimpeded by what happened around him. Mini forced himself to stand. The world swayed and righted itself, Tyler’s arm around his waist.

His body trembled. They were alive. 

Alive, he repeated. But it wouldn’t stop the nightmares. 


	24. chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyy I finally finished this chapter. Finals were hectic and so was settling back in at home, and then I'm moving to the house I'm renting tomorrow, plus I sprained my left elbow playing competitive monkey in the middle frisbee. I quite like this chapter, so hopefully you do too!

The drive back didn’t calm Mini’s head. The image of Brian in there, skin burned red around his neck, lashes bitten into his back, soured eyes glazed over, refused to leave. Tyler tried to keep him talking, but he’d lose him in the pauses. 

“Craig.”

He gazed listlessly out the window, head wavering to the movement of the car. The endless fields sprinted by in huge leaps, but he wouldn’t be able to recall anything he saw. In a haze between fog and the rumble of an old dishwasher, he floated heavy and light, a place in between, nameless. 

Mini wished he was back in the weather beaten house in the wood, on the roof watching the trees move with the wind, Tyler at his back, pointedly shoving his head into Mini’s neck. Thoughts careened in all directions, but he couldn’t hear a single one. 

The light pressure on the back of his hand brought part of him back down. He peered down and found Tyler rubbing absent circles. “Hey,” he said in Mini’s ear, “remember the first night on the roof? When I followed you… had a hell of a time getting down. You blindfolded me and somehow convinced me to jump down. I don’t think I ever thanked your for that. I was a cold bastard, tried not to let anyone in. It’s cliche, but I couldn't keep you out. You needed help, you weren’t helping yourself and I took it upon myself to be there. It was too late by then. It took me a bit to see what had changed, but when I thought back to that night, your arms steadying me as I hit the floor… I wanted that feeling again. 

It’s hard for us to feel safe, living this life. Craig, I feel safe with you. I hate how much I need you, but I wouldn’t change it. Everything was worth you. You remember the stars that night? The moonlight casting shadows on the ground and the rough feel of the tiles under your hands. You jumped without a thought. I envied that.. I wanted to just, get over it, as if that’s how it works. I wanted to escape like you could. You were so controlled but when you were in the trees, you changed, you looked… at peace. Like the world wasn’t on your shoulders.”

Mini drew out three words on Tyler’s arm. He leaned into him, closing his eyes. “Thank you.”

Tyler nodded into his shoulder, his breath ghosting across his neck. There was safety in the embrace, a warmth he couldn’t find anywhere else. The subtle rise and fall of Tyler’s chest, the heat radiating against his skin, the homey scent of sweat and Fiji deodorant mixed together. Well, maybe it wasn’t a surprise. People always learn to love the aroma of those they love. 

“We’ll be alright. We’ll get there.”

Mini closed his eyes. He wished he could be faithful for a future he wanted more than anything else. Domestic life, he craved. Waking up to Tyler setting the pan on fire in his attempt to make pancakes. Pulling back the curtains to a lightning storm, sitting out on a veranda with a cup of tea and a threadbare blanket he’d grown to need. Going out on long hikes without watching his back, without searching for the next fight. 

The light of this possibility dimmed as time went on, as the scars grew, as people died. He wanted to grab the light from the brink of extinction, the same way heroes did ten pages from the end. He didn’t have ten pages left. 

The shitty apartment stunk, well, like shit. Brian was moved off into the one decent bedroom to rest, Brock fussing over everything from the actually important things to the downright inconsequential, like whether the hole riddled curtains blocked out enough light as the sun tore its way up the horizon. 

Mini wanted to find an empty room and shrivel up in whatever the hell it was crawling up his throat and clawing at his breath. People used the word clawing a lot, or ripping. He supposed it felt something like that. 

But there were jobs he had to do. They were packing up and heading back to their old house. He had to book Jaren’s flight back, work out the logistics of the move, and then he had to figure out how the hell he was supposed to deal with emotions. You’d think he’d know by now. 

But he shoved his facade up and sucked in a rotten breath. Tyler’s hand landed on his shoulder, pulling him back into what he desperately wanted to bury his head in and forget the rest of the world. He couldn’t do this, he’d break if he wasn’t careful. Job first. Himself later. 

Calibre pulled him aside, face unreadable. Those brown eyes always bored into whoever he looked at, even at a mere glance. The first time he’d seen a flicker of something else, a nameless emotion, was when Evan died and Jon came back. Delirious, whatever. 

Calibre waited until the hallway emptied. Tyler lingered on the edge, trying to find a reason to stay, but without one, he turned and left. The old door swung shut with the hollow sound of cheap wood. 

Mini picked at the blood and dirt under his nails. Brown flecks of blood stained his shirt, jeans, and skin, but it wouldn’t leave without a thorough wash with cold water, saline solution, and baking powder. 

“You’re going with Brian, Brock, and Marcel back to our old location to clean it up and get it ready for us again. As soon as Brian has the green light to go from Arlan and Brock you’re leaving. Don’t tell Tyler, he’ll be informed after you’re gone to prevent any unnecessary… struggles,” he said without preamble. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

He sank against the unpainted plaster wall. No breaks. But why were they going back? He thought the whole reason to leave was for better access to clients, remaining untraceable, and new training ground. “What’s it all for?”

Calibre shifted his feet, leaning back on his heels. Dried blood crusted the cuffs of his rough black jacket. A streak stretched from his jaw down to his collarbone, red fingernail marks underneath. “As much as I loath to admit, we need a rest from actual clients so I set us up with the gang we used to practice with. They’ve taken some heavy losses and we’re left a few men short. With Jaren, Luke, Jon, and David out, we’re going to need to make up for it. I’ve caught wind of movement from the FBI, which means we need to be on our toes. But this team is far from it.”

Nothing ever could go their way. There had to be something fighting against them, man or disease. He wanted to lock the emotions he was trying to forget away, but they kept shoving back up into his throat. It was a minute until he could respond. 

“Where’s David going?”

Right. Access denied. 

Mini watched Calibre incline his head and withdraw. His feet ached and his head was spinning and all he wanted to do was breath. 

Why can’t it stop? Why won’t it stop? He just wanted it to stop, just for a moment, a second. But it didn’t and it wouldn’t. The ache expanded into his fingertips, buzzing in juxtaposition, with energy and with exhaustion. 

Mini took a breath and forced himself up. He needed a shower. A long, cold, silent shower. 

_________________________________

They were all clustered around the kitchen table three week later. Half of them held cups of coffee, the other drank tea or plastic water. Meager half-eaten sunlight filtered through the grimy window. Mini sat on one of three bar stools with Scotty talking in his ear to the whole group. Brian leaned heavily against Brock, held up by determination alone. Arlan shot him an annoyed look. He wasn’t supposed to to be up and around for another two weeks, but Mini couldn’t remember when one of them had ever listened to that advice. 

Scotty’s ‘tea’ smelled distinctly not tea-like. Mini yanked the cup from his hands and necked the whiskey straight down, coughing up a fit. 

Scotty frowned. “That was mine.”

“I know.” He puts the mug down, tracing the edge with a spare finger. Tyler looks vaguely concerned, but Mini waved him off. “I’m not the only one.” He pointed to Brian, who nursed a cream stained cup with suspicious amber liquid. So much for coffee, tea, and water. 

“It’s medicine!”

“Damn Irishmen. Can’t go a day without drinking.”

“I’ll have you know I went two months—”

“No one cares,” Marcel grumbled. 

Scotty looked around for help, but no one met his eyes. He gave a defeated sigh and crumpled against Mini, clinging to him in what could be described in a koala like fashion. He had to grab the counter to stop from falling backward. 

Once again, no one said a word, and naturally, Scotty despised silence and therefore felt deigned to fill it with scraps of stories, memories, dreams. 

“Has anyone ever been to the Cairngorm mountains in Scotland? It’s stunning land, lush lows and pale, ragged peaks. The sun rise is almost magical, glowing with power and tranquility. It feels like your standing on the edge of the world, and here, at the end of all things, you can either find lies or truths. Course I pissed off the edge to piss off whatever god watched on.”

Mini was surprised when none of the others tried to shut him up. They were all listening, as if there wasn’t anything better to say. But after all that had happened, it brought a domesticity they’d been lacking in a long time. At some point Scotty slid off him and squeezed between him and David. 

“There was a time Craig and I crashed a frat party in Santa Monica, near the pier. We outdrank every kid there, taking shots of irish whiskey and moonshine. He got himself into a bit of trouble with the headboy, some dumbass with a god complex. The dude ended up in the ER with a broken nose, fractured left arm, and a concussion. His friends didn’t mess with us after that…”

Scotty talked for more than thirty minutes without interruption. Brock forced Brian to lie down and rest in the bedroom despite the man’s protests. He returned with a bottle of Bread and Butter Pinot Noir, passing around the wine glasses. It was six forty in the morning, but even Brock knew they needed a distraction. Healthy or nor. 

There was an uncharacteristic pause when Scotty took his glass. He watched the wine spin as he swirled it lightly, eyes unfocused. Mini picked at his skin by his nails, Marcel shifted his feet, causing the wood to creak, Tyler tapped out a rhythm on the laminate countertop. 

“I’d like to go back to the northern shore, up by Grand Marais again. It’s a little place, barely over a thousand people live there. It’s snuggled right up against Superior, white caps pounding against the stone shores. Big black rocks litter the beaches there, mixed with rust iron torched strips to the south. There a tiny bookshop, Drury Lane Books. It’s shaped like a house, with a slanted roof, front porch painted white, and blue carpeted floors. The windows are small and symmetrical. Just past it lies the endless lake. No docks, no boats. Just waves and clouds and sky. 

“You should see it in a storm. The wind flogging the town, ravaging the trees. The explosion of thunder shaking the foundations, people standing out in the mass of it, bracing themselves against nature. You’ve never felt a storm until you plant your feet and let it bear down on you with the might of a million heartbeats. The whole land shivers in anticipation, waiting for the churning waves and howl to cut through the forests. The whole day verges on night, the quick bursts of light echoing behind your eyelids. It’s something.” Scotty swung his head around to stare into his eyes. “Like silver forked skies and cold lightning…” 

“…may the storm never end,” Mini finished. 

Scotty didn’t smile exactly, it was something meant to resemble one, to pretend everything was right. He pushed himself off the counter, necked the rest of his wine, and left the apartment. 

Eyes turned to him, brewing with questions, but he didn’t want to answer them today. He wasn’t sure he wanted answer them at all. There didn’t seem to be a point. How long would they survive to understand any of it?

 

The cramped room suffocated him with fresh air and mopped floors, making him feel sick to his stomach. Tyler laid next to him on the twin bed, arms around Mini’s back and neck. They didn’t speak. The thud of his heartbeat thrummed against his rib cage and surely Tyler could feel its fast, steady rhythm because it clouded Mini’s head. 

He was freezing and exhausted and his whole body ached with sleep deprivation. His insomnia had come back to lash him in the face since the rescue. There was no aid to help his mind shut down, no amount of suffering to force it to collapse. Five days without sleeping, and the rest with patchy, maybe two hours at most. No magical cure, no sleeps aids, no sleep. Every night he took melatonin, every night he craved his old medication, the weight of it. 

Tyler watched him constantly. He knew Mini wasn’t sleeping so he did what he could. More hugs, a dichotomy between staying close and giving him space, trying to make him feel safe. None of it did anything, but he didn’t have the energy to tell him. Talking these days took too much effort, sapping his strength where barely any resided.

Another three days passed before he got the call. It didn’t come from his own phone, but from David’s. The Irishman didn’t stick around to make sure he got the phone back, not that Mini would steal it. 

“Luke and Ohm are dancing around each other and I’m getting real sick and tired of it. It’s always something from those two and even Rynx hisses at them when they’re in the same room. I want to fucking shove them into a bedroom and lock the door until Jay inevitably tells me off. But it’d be so worth it.”

“How’s Rynx been doing? How big is she?”

“She’s an adorable monster that tears through the house at night and Cam has a love/hate relationship with her because he’s the one she wakes up at three am for food.” 

Mini scrunched his face up in what he thought was sympathetic in nature. “Sounds rough. How have you been doing?”

“I…” Jon shifted, and Mini could picture him biting his lip. “I’ve been better. Sleep’s been off and on and I’ve been trying to keep busy, but then I’ll see a flash of red out of the corner of my eye, and it’ll leave me drowning again. I guess all that fucking matters is that I’m trying.”

He fell against the wall, eyes closed. A mass of emotion welled up, abrupt pressure pushing to make him cry. And god, he wanted to just break with Jon and sit there together, four thousand miles apart, but close enough to share the same exhaustion. 

Mini forced himself to swallow, taking a few deep breaths that didn’t do anything against the mounting pressure. “Yeah, everything’s just getting worse… I can’t fucking sleep, I have to choke down food, I can’t stop waiting for something worse to break us for the last time. We’ve taken such a beating… Scotty’s trying to keep us afloat, but even he’s struggling.”

They’re quiet for a bit. He’s unsure as to whether he can talk about what has been building up for a long time, to admit he’s getting worse. He doesn’t want it to be true, doesn’t want to help himself because it means more exhaustion, more recovery than he thinks he can handle. Sitting in his position, his lungs aching with the effort to breathe steady and head jumping at the prospect of letting go in a way that doesn’t terrify him, but rather comforted him. It’s a strange, but common paradox. Sometimes pain’s everything he ever wanted.

He asked about Jaren. Mini could hear Jon’s smile return, half caked or not.

“Whatever you told him, thank you. You have no fucking idea how long they’ve been waltzing around each other. Jordan and Cam told me about the shit show they’ve been through, trying to get them to just fucking kiss. You should have seen the group’s faces when they saw them french it up. I could have sworn they’d all taken pure ecstasy.”

“Oh? And how’s the team coming? How long till they take clients on?”

“I’ve been watching them on my spare time and they appear to be doing well on practice runs. Jericho broke his wrist four days ago when Syndicate figured it be a good idea to practice trust falls from a tree. But besides their incompetence, they’re doing well. Sonja and I sparred for the first time yesterday. Jay thought it’d be good to give her partner who’s close to her height. It… went better than expected.”

Mini let his eyes open. “That’s good, that’s really good. Listen, I need to go, I told some of the guys I’d meet with them ten minutes ago. I’ll try to call you within weeks. I’ve missed you, dude.”

“I wish you were here a lot. To have someone I can relate to, not simply on a suffering level, but someone I’ve shared memories with. Like when you gave Brian permission to dunk a bucket of mud on my head at two in the morning.” Jon was trying to end with a positive note. 

“That was one time. Not like you didn’t do the same to me before either.”

“Yeah, yeah. Excuses. I’ll talk to you soon I hope. Stay safe, please.” 

Mini paused. “…You too, Jon. You too.”

 

The four of them huddled in Brian’s room, keeping their voices low and movements minimal. None of them wanted any questions from the others. If anything arose, Brock was teaching Marcel and him about treating injuries. 

Brian still looked like shit, but less like ‘I’m dying you fucking twat’ shit and more like ‘I’d kill you if it wouldn’t kill me’ shit. His bruises had turned from violent to sickly, he was more alert, and his strength had started to come back, but it was safe to say it would be close to a year before he would fully heal. Some of the aches would never go away. Mini hoped after this whole shit show was over with their ex-client and the FBI, Brian and Brock would ditch town. 

“Do we have a scheduled date yet?”

Brock brushed strands of hair out of Brian’s face. “Calibre said he wants us out end of next week. I still don’t like moving him… it’s too much too soon.”

“Hey, I’m right here. And I told you, I can do it. Get me a wheelchair and you won’t have to worry about a thing.” Brian tried to sit up, but admitted defeat quick enough.

“We can focus on that later. Marcel, Brock, what’s our top priority?”

“Well,” Marcel scratched his arm, eyes drifting down, “we need to make sure water still works, same with electricity and AC. Stock up on food, clean up the old rooms. I’m thinking we cordon off the area so we don’t have to worry about people. Barely anyone showed up as it was. Thinking maybe a pipe burst and the areas become a swamp, that sort of thing.”

“We should restock medical equipment, sterilize everything and get in touch with Arlan. Calibre said the remnants of the other crew would show up a couple days after us. The rest of us don’t show up for about two weeks. Should be enough time if we don’t run into too many problems, but with our luck, who knows.” Mini leaned one shoulder against the wall. The floor swayed, but he ignored it. Brock had been giving him worried glances since the rescue, but he wanted to pretend he was okay. He wasn’t fooling anyone, but it was the only way. He couldn’t stop. Once he did… 

“Did you sleep last night?” Brian punctured his thought train.

“I—what?” Brian repeated himself. Mini almost lied, but Brock and Marcel both stared him down. He shrugged, “couldn’t sleep, that’s all.”

Brian squinted at him. Mini squinted back. Someone rolled their eyes, Mini could hear it. 

“This isn’t about my sleep, we need to focus on what’s ahead. Marcel, you think you can polish up the knives? And Brock, you think you can clean out the weapons with me?” They acquiescenced, grumbling out their agreement. 

“How are we leaving without the others noticing?”

“Calibre said he’d take the lot out for a target run. They’ll be gone a few hours to give us leeway.”

A week, he could manage a week. A week left in the suffocation, in the dead air and dead breath ghosting out. He needed to be able to do that, he told himself. Just one more week and he could scream into a void without worrying anyone, without causing a scene. No one would have to know.

Mini scuffed his boots on the floor, too tired to pick them up as he left the room. He felt the stares on his back, the eyes searching for a fault line about to move. He straightened his posture until he hit the kitchen. Scotty watched him stumble, unable to catch himself, his head catching on one of the stools. 

His friend was by his side before Mini noticed he’d fallen. “What’s going on? What are you doing to yourself?

His vision spun and a hot flash swept down his body. He managed to vaguely sit up, pulling on Scotty’s leg to do so. “I’m fine.”

Blue eyes. Blue. Red. Delirious. Evan. Blood, seeping out of too many holes. His brain fired, connections flying, and  _ he couldn’t stop. Why won’t it stop? Why? _

Mini didn’t catch himself crying because he wasn’t. He caught himself lying.

 

_ “I’m fine.” _

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I started almost exactly a year ago, sitting on my Grandma's porch, telling myself I wasn't going to write this. Whoops. I will update once a week with chapters I've already written, but I'm beginning college soon, and once I run out of chapters prewritten, it will probably slow down, but I'll do my best to put out new chapters at a minimum every two weeks once we reach that point. But that's a while into the future. Enjoy and leave a comment, I love constructive criticism. Also, I would like a beta to review old chapters for grammar mistakes and glaring plot holes. 
> 
> Rowan


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